


Gift

by Bridgette_Hayden



Category: Guardian (TV 2018) - Fandom, Guardian - Fandom, 镇魂 | Guardian - priest
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bai Yu - Freeform, Chief Zhao Yunlan, Chinese Web Drama, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Guardian (TV 2018), Guardian - Fandom - Freeform, Guardian - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Non-traditional gender, Other, Professor Shěn Wēi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, The Black Robe Envoy, Zhu Jiu - Freeform, Zhu Yilong - Freeform, innocent Shen Wei, kunlun, m/m - Freeform, 镇魂 | Guardian - priest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bridgette_Hayden/pseuds/Bridgette_Hayden
Summary: Everything is immaculate atop the temple which sits at the foot of Heaven. It’s a lie, as if spirits have conspired to get Shen Wei there to recover. Timelessness and beauty are illusions, because he can still smell his own blood. Ten thousand years of restraint and frustration erupt between him and Zhao when an enemy from their past avenges himself in the worst way. Their unspoken desire for one another is used against them. In the aftermath, Shen isn’t sure he has survived it. (If you watch the show, heads-up, the sucker symbolizes a kiss. Don’t miss it! It's not going to be spelled out for you.)(In my stories, ‘no’ can mean ‘yes.’ That’s the whole point of fiction. Complete freedom and no limitations. These are warriors, they wouldn't have it any other way.)This is an AU, MPREG, Non-Con, Dubious-Con, M/M Slash, Gender Omniscience (non-traditional gender).WATCH THE SHOW HERE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdRj_d7_skE&t=30s   (credit at site)
Relationships: Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Proximity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bererjs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bererjs/gifts).



> I make no money from this fan-fiction. Characters of the Guardian Chinese drama, and Novel, belong to the author, Priest. Much love and thanks to him/her. May they be okay with my need to re-interpret and play with these lovely characters. Since I cannot duplicate the original characters, what I've written in the story are entirely my own adjustments and in no way reflects the author's intentions.

****

**Credit to Rania Twaireq, as far as I know, on Pic 1. Credit to both pics belongs to[优优独播剧场——YoYo Television Series Exclusive ](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCteBLoijWzlVFSR5BBtS_2Q) and actors Zhu Yilong and Bai Yu.**

* * *

**A FEW MENTIONS...**

To Bere RJS, who requested this fic with such detail, that my heart had to slow down and tell a real story. Thank you for introducing me the world of Guardian, The Untamed, and all kinds of Chinese web dramas. My life is enriched.

Notes:

WATCH THE SHOW HERE! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdRj_d7_skE&t=30s (credit at site)

You only need to watch the first 15 or so episodes, to get a good grasp on these characters. The show starts out with great quality, but tragically lost its budget and suffered just when it was getting good. But the actors remained top notch, even though sets and props suffered. Still worth watching and leads to the appreciation of other dramas and great actors.

I am not Chinese, so please forgive the cultural inaccuracies. When I started this story, I’d only watched the English-Subtitle version of the show, so my grasp on characterization was not as strong as it could’ve been. That’s why it’s an AU, and no where near canon. I was totally into Shen/Zhao’s relationship and this story was born from all that beauty and frustration. Then I saw Zhu Yilong’s other films and I couldn’t hold back. Then, I was able to read the translated version of Guardian, and to my amazement, realized that there was nothing sweet and innocent about Shen Wei (except when he was a teen and returned to Kunlun seeking another kiss *guh*). Anyhow, There’s also no Dixing or Haixing and in the real story, either. So this version of events are just one more fantasy in an ocean of dreams. I hope you enjoy. :-)

~~

**WARNING**

**WARNING**

**WARNING:** This story contains strong content that causes some people to stop reading: Non-con/rape, Tremendous Love, explicit scenes, dubious consent, M/M Slash, Gender Omniscience (non-traditional gender), and Mpreg. And I reckon my stories always will. :-)   


No, turn back!!

  
Stop!!

  
Don’t!!

(I was told that my warnings aren’t strong enough, like I can stop people from recklessly charging ahead. Even when I use the right tags, they still do it. To hell with it.)

 **Letter to the Reader**  
To the lovely people who simply stop reading and look for another story, thank you! Proceed to chapter one.

To the lovely people who can handle fictional drama in most taboo forms, thank you! Proceed to chapter one.

To those who think I’m going to change my writing habits just because you’re offended: No one’s making you read the damn story, and it’s your own fault that you’re pissed. I have no control over your belief systems or your triggers. I’ve never agreed to see the world the way you do. If you are in any way dissatisfied, that’s not my problem. No, I will not shoulder your useless complaints. You have every right to feel the way you do, but I don’t have to join you. Rude comments will be deleted. Leave, and take responsibility for your own choices. Nobody promised you a damn thing. Writing is my heart and soul, so yes, I’m defensive. You’ve only thought about this story for maybe a minute, it’s been building inside of me my whole life. No. Walk away. 

If you’re one of the top two, sorry you had to hear that, but it needed to be said. As a polite person, I don’t say “Fuck you!” nearly enough. There, I’ve said it for the whole year. If you’re totally put off now, good, I’ve weeded you out. Believe me, you would not have enjoyed the story. It’s for the best. 

Without further ado…here's my baby.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~

He opens his eyes. 

The view from his bed is like a dream. That’s how Shen Wei knows it’s a lie. Healers have placed him in the heart of their sanctuary. The large room has no walls, but heavily lacquered rafters open onto the sky. Clouds stretch ahead of him and on both sides. When dawn comes, it wakes him to splendid colors, glowing linens, and fragrant tea-olive blossoms. It summons him back to life every day, though he does not wish to return. He hears a rushing waterfall in the distance. Beneath its foamy echo, he thinks he hears a crying child. He accepts this as an an appropriate haunting for a crime he can never speak of. He curses these holy masters and their prayers. If they knew what he’d done to end up here, their mercy would allow his life to leak from him and not try to stop it. 

Where was Zhao? What he must be suffering.

Cloud Speaker Temple. It was built by spirit healers after the destruction of Dixingian’s underground city. It was built to offer solace to a devastated people, and to inspire them to keep looking up at endless hope. Old masters awoke great magic to raise the temple, to make its inner limestone walls as polished as glass, and floors that ran in shimmering pools of black and red watery reflections. Spirit built it. Spirit sustained it. White flags bestowed blessings and peace, billowing across the roof and surrounding landscape, in hanging veils and lanterns strung to wave harmoniously with the wind. Outside the main sanctuary, an open room, the ceiling became the sky. Beneath endless blue, frosted spikes of mountain ranges wrapped around the temple like a dragon coveting her egg. Indeed, the old stories spoke of giants and dragons so large, dying in the Great Flood, and becoming fertile earth and stone that modern civilizations take for granted. 

Shen’s injuries, and the medicines forced into him, denied him movement. It was just as well. The sooner he regained his independence, the sooner he would run a blade across his throat. As quick and deep, and certain, as needed. Once he cut the artery, no one would be able to save him. But until then he had to lay there. He had to tolerate being waited on like a bed-ridden beggar and not the self-reliant warrior that he had always been. So he lay there, succumbing to memories and visions. 

As he looked out on the world around him, at flowers and hanging scrolls of silk, painted with the principles of the Seven Speakers, somewhere in his mind, he remembered a man he trusted more than life itself. Kunlun used to tell him such wonderful stories. That ancient God. How Shen, as a teen Ghost King, loved to listen to him speak of the great lizards. Kunlun had the ability to open portals onto the beasts of the past, allowing them both to watch from a distance. How Shen emulated him, and longed to be like him. Careful what you wish for, was the mortal adage. Thousands of years later, not only did he know those histories were real, he knew that wishing to see such impossible things, wedded him to walk a path that was so different from that of ordinary men, and even that of his twin brother. He must’ve wished so hard, that Kunlun’s flame anointed him with transcending godhood, rendering him just as mythical as any dragon. 

The memory of what Kunlun’s deep and reassuring tone sounded like to his young ears, tempted him to think that laying down his ten thousand year old life, might be the only way he could get another chance to reincarnate and dispel this whole bloody affair. Ignoring his shame, he imagined death giving him a new life and being young enough, worthy enough, to sit on Kunlun’s mountain again. Just the two of them, without the mistakes that followed. 

His first kiss, and not even knowing the name for it, but returning to Kunlun for another, after running and hiding from him for thirty years, was as stunning and quick on his forehead as the day it happened. All that sensation had been a lightning bolt to the front of his skull, confusing him. It took him thirty years to sort out what it did to him. A few panicky moments for him, a lifetime for mortals. It took him that long to decide that whatever the act of that superior man, pressing his lips above the place of his eyebrows, he wanted more. He had no way of knowing that Kunlun would go one even better, and without warning, place the next kiss on his lips. 

This memory of love, was Shen’s only power against terrible tar pits in his mind. Unspeakable evil and remorse crawled out of them and pulled at him, ripping the clothes from his body, and dragging him into them. He could never get away unless he used the only memory of light and love that seemed powerful enough. Before Zhao was Zhao, he was Kunlun, and he chose a nameless Ghost teen above all others. 

From bed, Shen Wei studied his surroundings. He concluded that this mastery of architecture, fing shui, and beauty, were lies that went as deep as the horror running black and toxin in his soul. He had been touched by something, endured something so wrong, that no amount of prettiness was going to undo it. No sunlight was ever going to brighten his heart again. Not as long as his betrayal to Zhao Yunlan could not be undone. 

He was prepared to die from his injuries. To waste away from grief and regret. But instead, he kept waking up here, a little stronger than the day before. All that had happened, tried to break through the fog he imposed upon himself. He denied it access to his fully conscious mind by never allowing himself to be fully conscious. But the sky pulled his eyes open every morning, making him face a little of it each day. And day by day, his anger caught up with him. He felt he was fourteen again, trying to fill the shoes of a warrior, with a sword in one hand and his little brother in the other, trying to outrun oppression catching up with them, because Ye Zun could not run fast enough. Because they were destined to suffer their initiation into a world of dragons and war, and crimes that gods ignore. 

When the stress of it had his chest heaving to the point of bursting his bandages and reopening his wounds, he could not even lift his arms to wipe his eyes. Tears irritated his temples with salt streaks that he was too weak to wipe away. So when Zhao appeared, doing it for him, he suffered even more upon seeing him. Zhao wasn’t supposed to see him like this. He’d vowed to never show his face to him again, and here he was, coaxing Shen to let go of whatever nightmare had hold of him, and to sleep. 

That’s when Kunlun appeared, along with mountainous hills that looked like humps of one long, continuous beast, and then mercifully asleep. But he always woke up. Zhao was not there and he was left to face a little more each day, with nothing but the whisper of wind through leaves and monks chanting, to coax him into facing why he was there. 

He closes his eyes.

***

He opens his eyes. 

There is no silence like temple silence. Prayers lifted in white smoke on the ashes of dehydrated cherry leaves and powdered onchya. Open floor space demanded reverence from those few allowed to enter. Seven Speakers Temple sprawled across the top of a red mountain. Portions of its walls were molded from that clay, and said to consist of minerals sifted so abundantly from the lower portion of the mountain, that its summit shone like amber gemstone from surrounding peaks. Combined with the masters who withdrew there, the structure was rumored to conduct such an ample flow of _Qi_ , life force, that healing was said to be assured and instantaneous. Shen Wei knew that wasn’t so. 

As he lay flat on his back, he remembered the stories of men and women risking their lives to find this temple, to brave the moving mists which demarcate a line that humans should not pass. There was said to be lush wilderness below the fog, and that was as far as ordinary people could venture. Above that, a soil so ancient blanketed the top, that scrolls assigned its origin to the depths of the Dixingian underworld. It was ascribed to have risen from volcanic momentum and pushed up, becoming one of the few physical portals to the underworld. That must’ve been why Zhao Yunlan had brought him here. To let the power of his people try to heal him. That was over two weeks ago, and he was only strong enough now to raise himself up, if he didn't mind a struggle.

_But you’re alive._

His jaw tightened on the sting of resentment. Zhao should’ve let him die. That would’ve been the most compassionate thing to do. But not the bravest, something whispered to him. 

A single bell gently proclaimed the early hour. Above Shen Wei, a ceiling of blessings carved into wood and stone, reached down to meet his gaze with a hundred billowing veils. All, the color of the sunrise. All glowing, illuminated by the morning. At first, he’d lain there in the dark, detecting their movement as they swayed in a predawn breeze that stirred mildly. The air was gentle and comfortably cool for a temple so high. While he could do nothing but wait for his strength to return, he watched as the horizon set fire to the walls and curtains shrouding him. With light, came pain and memory. 

It forced him to respect the beauty around him. Things could be worse. In the presence of such perfection, the mind had nothing to fight with. It had no choice but to heal. There had been moments when he clung to his anger to keep from giving in to such beautiful isolation. But after two weeks of waking up to fresh linens, soothing medicine, and brilliant nature, he felt himself losing that battle. When that happened, he would force himself to think back on his actions. Go back to the crux, and his unforgivable choices. That cut deeper than any gash. He’d done his best to sever the tendons in his wrists and to open his veins before losing the ability to control his hands. Those hands committed their last crime. All he had to do was die. But no, Yunlan would not give him that. These hidden priests and their secret ways, they forced him back from the light. They found a way to close wounds that he’d ripped to make sure they could not close. Damn them all, and their holy magnificence. 

Even his sheets seemed to glow with supernatural whiteness and cleanliness. Sunlight added an aura that wasn’t really there, he told himself. Who actually put him here and bathed him everyday? Not Yunlan, who stayed away. Their faces were always blurred behind vague smiles and kind silence. At first, in his grief and medicinal fog, he had not cared who they were. But they did everything for him, provided for every bodily need without so much as a twinge of complaint or annoyance. When he refused to release his bowels in front of them, a black leaf was held under his nose and his body went lax. He felt his waste pour out him while someone stroked his head and assured him that this was the best way. Above him, veils glided his shame away and became a source of fascination. When the medicine wore off, his humiliation returned. Only the clockwork regularity of fresh dressings, clean clothing, and hot broths, took the sting out of being helpless. At least, whomever was caring for him, was masterful at it and wanted to do it. That much was obvious. Zhao Yunlan must be paying these people a fortune. 

Did he have reserves of wealth from his time as Kunlun? He could’ve stashed diamonds and gold between the vaults of time, given the thousand years between their lives. The Hallows had left him touched with abilities he hadn’t had before. Could he step in an out of time? Is that how he stopped Shen from killing himself? None of that made sense and he told himself that there was no point in salvaging logic from a life he did not want. 

Still, his mind questioned, who were these people that saw to his every need? Who made sure there were burgeoning flowers by his bed, and trailed cold, wet swabs over his bare skin when the fevers hit? His body was still fighting infection, starvation, and internal trauma. Who cleaned him and made sure that he woke up in a place of perfection each day? Someone made sure that his sheets were pure and fit for royalty at all times. Who dared insist this healing upon him, when his slashed wrists shouted that he was done with life? 

What if he didn’t want to cooperate? What if he didn’t want to recover from the darkest night of his life, because he didn’t deserve it? Why should his body wake up to freedom, when his soul would never walk in such abundance ever again? One hell was over. Another one was beginning. 

He had done it. Seen it through, and destroyed the evidence. Zhao could live and that was all that mattered. If his actions left him to deal with sin, murder, and grief too unspeakable to discuss with anyone, then he would accept that existence the way a monk accepts a vow of silence. If guilt and shame festered inside of him, turning to flesh-eating rot, then self-exile, until the last of his days, would be the fire that purifies him. He’d done enough for Zhao. This least, he would do for the infant he could not permit to live. 

Of course he knew the name of the people taking care of him. Descendants of the Seven Speakers. It was imprinted above the entrance to his room, written the length of wall scrolls across from his bed, and depicted in hand-painted tapestries. But who were they as people? Didn’t they judge him? Didn’t they want to know why he would do such a horrible thing? This place was guarded. Sacred. Thought to be a legend. What did Zhao tell them, to get them to let him in?

On shaking arms, he pushed himself up. He noted the tender places of his body, and winced at an obscene gush of blood that dampened his dressings in the most private of places. He cringed, unwilling to let his mind focus on it. It couldn’t be helped. Judging by the way his loins were swaddled in tight layers of fabric, the wrappings were expert and would not leak. He had only to find the same precise technique applied to his wrists, to know the skill he was dealing with. Stark white fibers criss-crossed over each other to create a waterproof effect, tapered at both ends, and thick enough in the middle to guard against further damage. 

His cuts must’ve been tended to very thoroughly, including herbs to fight bacteria. He could smell a faint perfume, sap oil, coming from them. They were meant to stay immaculately wrapped, up the entire length of his forearms, until those lashes closed. These people denied him death. If his blood ruined their spotless sheets, then it was their own fault, not his. He had tried to rid the world of his poison and they stopped him. If he bled all over this holy place, then they deserve it. Their so-called kindness, was after all, a greater cruelty. 

_Maybe you deserve it._

He couldn’t shut that voice out. 

He should’ve killed Zhu Jiu when he had the chance, instead of being so merciful. Instead of letting himself think his madness ended with his suicide. This slip allowed Zhu Jiu to find his way back to this world, grow stronger, and plan revenge years in the making. Zhao and himself were allowed to return to greater positions in the world, guardianship granted by forces greater than the lives of men. Their lives were reset, their bodies renewed with the purposes to aid all the various races on the planet and maintain balance between those who would seek to conquer the lives of others, instead of allowing life for all. Neither of them were quite human after that spiritual promotion. They were left with memories of who they were before. Their bodies were just as vulnerable and limited, but they were gifted with extra resilience and abilities. They were a proper team and they formed their own alliance. 

It worked for a number of years. It dawned on them that they were not aging and never got sick. As Black Envoy, Shen was used to the ability to heal instantly from mortal wounds, but Zhao was not. As they solved case after case, gaining in reputation that could not be blemished by even the top officials, they realized they were demigods, and that the rules of life and death had changed for them. 

For instance, Zhao had only to express the sentiment that he missed seeing Shen with long hair, before the professor found himself having to cut it every week in order to maintain it short. With so many cases to consider, he required stringent order and a low maintenance appearance, predictable and respectable at all times. As much as he wanted Zhao to take pleasure in his form, he did not want to be distracted by trivial physical qualities. When his hair began to grow so fast that it became a chore to keep it cut, he considered asking Zhao to take back his sentiment. It was a curse. A mere whim had been given life and expression from his life force.

Where they shared feelings too inappropriate to discuss, Shen’s body obviously, effortlessly aligned with the wishes of the one man he held more respect for than anyone else. It was the reason he insisted on continuing to live in separate lodgings. Distance and boundaries kept him in full control of who he was. It kept him honorable. As Black Envoy, he could abuse his power. He could make mistakes that cost others their lives. He did not allow himself the luxury of being distracted from work, no matter how charming Zhao was. It was enough to get to work beside him in a partnership sanctioned by Universal compassion. Their union was blessed by the same power that held planets in the sky. Why ask for anything more? 

He knew that Zhao would’ve like more, but he didn’t want to think about it. Their positions were too high to disgrace themselves with bodily whims. If he could learn to deny the urges that kept them separate from common humans, then Zhao could do so as well. It wasn’t that he thought himself better than anyone, it was his sense of responsibility. Humans have short life spans and so much sadness. Let them drink their fill of pleasure while they can. But himself and Zhao, they were granted lives outside of time, and so should hold themselves to a greater standard. 

He thought this was understood between them. But his hair kept getting longer, breaking free of the power that kept it modern and trim. His appearance reflected more and more the beautiful warrior that Zhao wanted to see. And even when dressed in his professor’s disguise, he found it difficult to hide that ancient inheritance. As the Ghost King, his genetics had cultivated beauty as a deceptive marker of power and persuasion. His appearance had preceded his reputation as a teacher. He could hardly have a discussion with his students without them blushing and going giddy. It began to bother him. 

Other teachers made discreet passes at him, and he did not trust being alone with those who called themselves his superiors. 

When Zhu Jiu turned back up in their lives, murdering and doing everything in his ability to get their attention, they knew he was using his crimes to single them out. To extract special revenge. They knew he wanted them to walk into a trap, but they were incorrect as to what kind of trap that was. They over estimated themselves and underestimated him. With his past efforts being unsuccessful, he’d returned with new magic, new abilities, new weapons. But the more his mind approached all of that, the more it became too much to endure, flat on his back. He would not suffer it a second time. Approaching the memory alone, shut down significant centers in his mind like a safety valve, and would not let him resurface to look at what truly happened. Not for a while. 

After the bunker horror, hair was the least of his problems. It seemed to stay long because Zhao wanted it to. It was one more thing under his influence and cursed by Zhu Jiu’s tainted destruction.

  
***

  
At some point, he awakened in the temple, long enough to notice that his hair had returned ti its short length. He was no longer stuck in his Black Envoy form. That meant, he hoped, that his body had returned to normal too. For the better part of a year, it had been under the will of another. Realizing this freedom, displaced the anger inside of him. Shackles fell away from his mind. He was scarred for all eternity, but he was free. He didn’t know if he could trust that, but the state of his hair confirmed his release was hard won. If it was a lie, he’d slit his throat rather than let Zhu Jiu control his form again.

Bandages were so tight and thick around his loins, he couldn’t be sure that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. His male parts were healing, it seemed, when he found the courage to prod and run his hand over himself. Medicinal herbs had numbed most of the sensation below his waist. He remembered the blood and the damage, as he ran to get away from Zhao. The forest had been dense and thick with the dim of approaching nightfall. He’d been in so much pain, he’d wanted it to hurry and get dark. Become moonless, so that Zhao would have more trouble following the slick red trail he left behind. His every pained step stained and crushed sticks and leaves as blood beaded from his soppy boots and splattered them. It’s slippery glaze caused his clothes to stick to him, and ran down his legs beneath. His feet had to work harder, slipping on the syrupy coating filling his shoes. He didn’t know how hard he’d been working to stay balanced until his feet began to cramp at their joints. Never had he felt so mortal and constrained by effort. But he had so much else to think about, so much urgency, he kept moving. 

He kept looking for the shelter of caves he knew to be in that area. He could lose Zhao inside. He’d go deep enough. He’d confuse the direction. He couldn’t let himself be seen like this. Whatever awaited him in the next hour, he couldn’t let another soul witness it. Especially not Zhao. 

After waking up again in the temple, he realized that it wasn’t his internal injuries that were giving him so much physical pain. It was his feet. The joints of his toes ached as if they were clutching a cliff and had been since that night. He wondered if he could even walk. 

This angered him and took him back to the bunker. Back to Zhu Jiu’s heinous schemes as they unfolded in all their poisonous glory. He, a Ghost King, and judge of lesser beings, had been rendered incapacitated and left on his back there as well, with no one to take care of him but Zhao. It was not a debt that he could pay. 

  


Somehow, Zhu Jiu’s suicide was viewed by powerful, unseen spirits as a great sacrifice, worthy of reward. Not only was he given a spectral body, his soul was promoted to a position designed to move the Earth’s populace like chess pieces. His new job was to inspire division among races and cultures. To be the Northern wind that scatters livelihoods and families in storms of change, in opposition to the Western wind, that rebuilds nations anew. If life doesn’t shift, it cannot continue to grow. When people grew stale and too weary to appreciate life, he tormented them, creating havoc until they let go of the old and embraced the new. Some saw him as an angel of death. Others, a demon of destruction. 

Zhao and Shen only knew that he had come back with retaliation on his mind, and the blessing of dark spirits, to do as he wanted. They didn’t know how much he hated them, until he trapped them in a room, in a bunker, designed to injure and weaken them. His game was not to kill them, but to make them betray each other. He must’ve spent years determining how best to ruin and humiliate them. Death was way too generous and kind, compared to what he thought they deserved for outsmarting him until he felt he had no choice but to take his own life. 

As investigators, they had no problem tracking down the missing children he’d kidnapped. Those children had been decoys. When they located the underground bunker where they were kept, the kids were allowed to go free, while Shen and Zhao were trapped inside. Strangely, their powers weakened in the submerged chambers that were once a hollowed out military installment. Even stranger, the place had been equipped with fresh food, a bed, a working toilet and shower, and basic needs. They realized very quickly that they were Zhu Jiu’s true intended victims. The fact that they could find no way out, forced them to acknowledge the rise of his status in the realm between human and spirit worlds. 

Shen could not manifest his Black Envoy form. When he tried to summoned his glaive, nothing happened. The wounds he acquired getting past Zhu Jiu’s accomplices and trappings, were not healing instantly, as was normally the case. Zhao Yunlan, who’s body was still human, but reinforced with gifts of extraordinary restorative abilities, healed just as slowly. 

After spending two days looking for a weak spot in their rusting metal and concrete environment, testing walls and beating on pipes that led to sealed off areas, they surmised that if Zhu wanted them dead, he would’ve made his move. He could’ve flooded the place with poisoned gas. He could’ve blown it up. While their guardian positions afforded them resilient lives, their bodies were not immortal. Now that their powers seemed to be compromised, they had to be careful with their bodies. They kept searching for a way out. All they found were stores of food, lantern fuel, and hidden cameras. They looked into them and cursed Zhu’s name before smashing them. 

After Zhao’s rage took him into a frenzy, where he ripped at the standard, military grade bare mattress, smashed in a counter of non-working electronics, and overturned all the shelves, dislocating his thumb, Shen was able to convince him to calm down and think this through. 

He talked Zhao into allowing one remaining camera for communication. “We must talk to him. We might have to negotiate our way out.”

Zhao, who could not sit still, paced through the debris of smashed junk he’d left on the floor. He kicked brackets and a broken radio out of his way. “I will not bargain with that scum. How does he think this trap will hold us? Talking to him is compromise. We will not compromise. We’ll get out by our own means, if we have to dismantle the pipes and crawl through the fucking sewage.”

His boot kicked at the rickety bedframe, jarring it. At the foot, in front of Zhao, cabinet doors to a metal locker, popped off its hinges. The door stayed on, but at the top, magazines spilled onto his head. They caught his attention. They were not old and covered with dust and grimy film like most things in the bunker. They were new. And their covers were filled with glossy, pornographic images of men and women. He and Shen looked at each other. What clue was this? Disgust rattled in his stomach. Not at the magazines, but at the audacity behind them. A message formed in his mind about their hostage situation, and he tore away at it by picking up the magazines and tearing at them. 

They also found cases of wiskey and wine in the locker. Months worth. It took them a full minute of blinking at those glistening bottles and cartons, and puzzling at one another, before a light came on in Zhao’s mind. It was a dim light, nothing could be this simple. This juvenile. Nudies and wine, that seemed even beneath Zhu Jiu. It bothered him more than their captor would stoop to such gimmicks, than the fact that they were being held against their wills. If Zhu has lost his mind and cannot be reasoned with, then maybe they were in trouble. 

He suddenly knew why they weren’t dead. Why there were clean sheets on a rotting bed, and plenty of food and oil lamps. They were meant to survive down here. To put on a show. He said nothing to Shen, who watched him ripping at pages with a look of incomprehension marring his face. 

Shen let him spend his anger. After hours of standing and straining his mind to find an escape, he sat down on the bed, feeling a strange lethargy come over him. The temperature dropped significantly that evening, and they were forced to be practical and use the lamps for heat and lighting. They told themselves that others were looking for them. They speculated that their might be enough broken equipment around them, to piece together a working transmitter. Get an SOS code to their team. They both knew this was a long shot. A guy who thought of porn, was not going to leave valid, live radio equipment laying around. Everything in the room, had been left there to give them hope. To string them along until they were desperate enough to play the game being demanded of them. 

Well, nothing was going to make Zhao play that bastard’s game. He kept his suspicions to himself, and was glad he did when Shen started getting sick. 

Both resisted the urge to go anywhere near the bed, but years of flaking refuse littered the floor and made it unsanitary. Shen did what he could to rectify this by coating his hands in the antibacterial soap left for them, and picking up everything he could to clear the floor. 

“Stop it!” Zhao scolded. “Don’t act like we’re going to make a life here. Our every thought must be on getting out.”

Shen pushed up his glasses. “I agree, but even thoughts circle upon themselves without a solution. I’m not doing this because I’m looking forward to staying here. I’m doing it to give myself focus. And as long as we’re here, conditions must be better. Cleaner. It will help me to think.”

“D’you think he lived down here?”

“It was probably a hideout at one time. Why do you supposed he’d leave us, his prisoners, such luxuries as soap and a shower?”

“Because he plans on keeping us down here a long time. He thinks necessities will pacify us. But the joke’s on him. We’ll get out. The longer we sit, the more time we have to figure out how to dig ourselves out.”

“What could be the point of keeping us?”

“If we’re in here, there’s no one to stop him out there.”

It still didn’t make sense, but rather than agitate himself, Shen began to speculate in silence also. Hours later, the floor had a path and Shen carefully removed his second shirt to wring soapy water onto it. Zhao said nothing, watching him efficiently replace his clean, top shirt, in order to sacrifice his undershirt. The act was excessive, but he knew Shen’s OCD wouldn’t let him help it. 

That’s what he loved about him, that spotless veneer that made him itch to ruffle Shen’s hair, or behave in extra piggish and sloppy ways around him. He did it just to see Shen bristle into even crispier actions, causing him to go so tight as to crackle with tension. His looks were like a polished vase, kept so sterile of prints that one was forbidden to touch. That’s when Zhao got sloppier and pretended swiping Shen’s cheeks with ketchup-laden fries, was merely a clumsy, innocent accident. The need to ruffle and dirty him, was the only way he had of letting his desire to touch, come to the surface. 

Shen found a shoe brush in the locker and scrubbed at the floor. 

Zhao laughed at him from the bed. “You’re going to exhaust yourself, then what good would you be to me.”

“It helps me,” Shen insisted. 

“I’m anxious too, but we must save our strength. The hammer’s coming. He’s got more up his sleeve than forcing us to have a sleep over.”

He meant it to come out funnier than it did. Shen stopped scrubbing, pausing long enough for Zhao to see that his choice of words bothered him. Even united, and resurrected from death, they did not share a room. They had never lain upon the same bed. There was an agreement, implicit between them, that they did not need it. But Zhao’s words seemed to breech that unspoken contract. Those first two days that they had remained awake around the clock, scouring every inch of the bunker they could access, the bed was used for sitting and discussing strategies throughout the night. Zhao had listened to Shen point out the flaws in every plan he came up with. 

At first they fought their prison, and fought hard. Each possessed an inner stamina that surpassed an average man’s, and when they realized their extra sensory abilities were weakened, they combined mental strength to reach their team. 

When they could not find a weakness in the bunker, Zhao resorted to yelling, testing external proximity. Shen pointed to the seems of each wall. “It’s no good. This place is fitted with noise-canceling foam. Those aren’t decorative fixtures. Judging by the rivets, they’re between the walls as well.”

Zhao smashed his fist into the metal surface, just to hear that dull thud acknowledge his anger. His knuckles came away bruised and bloodied. Before he could hide it, Shen rose from the bed and grabbed his wrist. He didn’t have to admonish Zhao in order for them both to know he too was losing his patience. Instead of letting Zhao pull away, he held him still and pointed his attention at the broken skin. He extended his energy and didn’t let up when the injury took too long to heal. 

Zhao kept quiet, realizing that Shen needed to test his power. To gauge it. When his injury closed fully after ten minutes, and Shen’s temples were damp from exertion, they both had their answer. He dropped Zhao’s wrist and turned his back to him. He had to sit on the bed. 

He said calmly, “Tantrums will only kill us faster. This place is sapping our strength. We’ve been here two days, and what should’ve taken seconds, has taken much longer. I feel strange. Exhausted. It isn’t natural to me, so be careful. Avoid self-harm. We have no antibiotics in this filth and our powers are compromised. We must use our minds and spirits if we are to get out of here.”

Zhao insisted Shen take the bed and rest. “Then take a break and when you feel better, we can try an astral meditation. It would be best to wait until they might be asleep anyway. Guo is the only one open and receptive enough to get our message directly. The rest must use their dreams. We’ll show them images of where we are. We’ll press it upon them. They’re already looking for us, so it shouldn’t be that difficult.”

“But will they take their dreams seriously?”

“If all of them are having them persistently, they’ll discuss it. Guo will see the meaning.”

Zhao nodded. “Maybe.” But how long would that long shot take? He didn’t argue, seeing that Shen was already upset enough. It wasn’t the soundest of plans, but the mechanics have been proven to have a basis in fact. Problem is, different people get different results. Surely, two veteran warriors, endowed with the life force of reincarnated demigods, can make it work. If Zhu Jiu, can get the support of malevolent spirits, they could get the assistance of greater, more dominant forces that lived outside of the life and death cycle. 

As two who live between worlds, they were no strangers to this type of travel and communication. But it was an altogether different discipline and neither were adept at it. Shen only intended to recuperate for an hour. He lay down and closed his eyes, and didn’t open them again for another six hours. By then, Zhao had joined him, sitting cross-legged as far back against the wall as he could, so as not to disturb him. Lanterns were the only light, and tiny flames cast the bed in an aura of flickering amber and shadows. 

“My glasses.” Shen felt around for them, then took them from Zhao when he handed them to him. 

“I couldn’t let you break them.” It seemed to be an apology for touching him as he slept. 

Shen was thankful, simply because it was his nature to appreciate blessings in all their forms, no matter how small. He didn’t need the glasses to see, but he needed them to maintain the illusion of being a tenured academic. That persona was the only thing standing between himself and his past life memories of Zhao. It structured the boundaries by which they currently lived and kept him reminded of his earthly mission. “Thank you.”

He put them on and looked around the room. Disappointment confirmed they were still in that underground room. 

“How do you feel?”

“Better.” 

It was said with such grim compression, that neither believed it. In the dim, Shen looked hot and sticky. Zhao thought he saw fever in his eyes. He had to get him out of here. 

The professor pushed himself up. A bottle thrust into his face. 

“Here. It’s water from the shower. I drank it myself, so it’s okay. Safe.”

Alarm widened in Shen’s eyes. “You can’t be sure. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I purified it. The bottle came from the liqueur. I dumped a few and set them over the lanterns, each with a cup of water. They boiled low and I asked the gods to bless it. I had some two hours ago and I am fine.”

Shen saw the hope in his face and the need to please in his voice, and could not bring himself to point out that two hours was not proof that they weren’t poisoning themselves with contaminants and possibly parasites. 

Zhao added, “I got such good results, I opened the foiled packs and heated mushrooms for us. Black Fungus. Not exactly five-star, but edible. I’m still alive.”

“Why are you being so reckless?”

“Because one of us has to take chances and get you out of here. If we don’t drink his water, we dehydrate that much quicker. Our bodies can only restore themselves if we’re healthy. Once we lose that, we lose everything. We need calories and fuel. The food is packaged with the logo of Han Feng, a worldwide distributor. I really think Zhu Jiu is too lazy to produce and package cases of poisoned lunches just for our benefit. He wants us alive, and that will be his downfall. Whatever he’s up to, he’s pretty confident that his plan can’t happen unless we’re alive. Now eat.”

Zhao could see that his professor was just a little impressed, in spite of his reserve. 

Shen closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt hung over, recalling the morning after gulping enough sake to pass out in public, the first time he’d tried it. Another life ago. To a thinking person, few things were as annoying as being unclear and mentally foggy. It was the equivalent of being unable to run in a dream, when speed was critical to whatever was chasing him. He decided to hide his bad mood from Zhao. 

“Perhaps later,” he compromised. He needed to wake up. He got up from the bed and started stretching. Stretches became full blown exercises. 

“Slow down. You’ll get light headed.”

“You let me sleep too long. It’s your turn.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Then exercise.”

“We’re going to have a meditation remember? If the body is too stimulated, the trance will be unsuccessful.”

“I have to move around. Suit yourself. It will clear my mind.”

Zhao was content to watch him do lunges and use the wall to push against his own weight. It’s just a different kind of tantrum, he told himself. He had his way of expressing frustration. Shen had his. When life threw chaos at Shen, he created as much order out of it as he could. He kept up the pushups, in perfect form, until his temples were damp. 

“You’ll get cramps if you don’t drink water,” Zhao offered from the bed. He found his friend’s physical exertion annoying. What he wanted to say was, “You’re still wearing that damn suit. You’re overheating and making things worse. Just take the shirt and jacket off and exercise like a man already. Your modesty will be the death of you. 

He remembered the glimpse of Shen’s bare chest when he’d removed his undershirt to clean with it. Those three seconds had been nice. What would it hurt to enjoy that little bit of sugar in a pit like this. It would be his secret and it hurt nothing. He really wished Shen trusted him more. Their life-time union said that he gave his trust implicitly. But his actions sometimes demonstrated otherwise. Or fear, and after thousands of years rising through the hierarchy of reincarnation, it couldn’t be that. Shen was the bravest warrior he knew. It didn’t make sense that he hid so much of himself from Zhao’s eyes. Unless, he was afraid for Zhao to see his flaws. 

Zhao made himself laugh against the sound of Shen’s accelerated breathing. What flaws? He would’ve loved to find an imperfection on this precious man. No, his only flaw was thinking he could ever appear in any shameful aspect to Zhao’s eyes. Where has such pressure to be perfect come from? It was nearly human of him, and both a source of frustration and a turn on for Zhao. But that was his little secret and he enjoyed it so much, it almost made up for the distance Shen kept between them. It certainly gave Zhao license to have as much fun as he wanted in his mind, as long as his core thoughts were respectful and he never crossed the line. 

The pace of Shen’s exercises got aggressive. Fine. Let him wear himself out. He’ll have to come to this bed and rest and eat like a real person. Then they could descend into the mental realms that would let them reach their team regardless of time and space. It was more of an ascent, but getting the brain and body to cooperate enough to let go, definitely felt more like going down into oneself, before lifting out. When he and Shen returned in human form, after restoring the hallows, they were instructed to cultivate their spiritual memories in this way. Both were guilty of letting work take precedence over meditation. Now they would be rusty, but it was worth trying. 

At last, Shen collapsed against the wall. His reluctance was obvious. 

Zhao patted the bed, sipping his whiskey decanter of water. Instead of joining him, Shen took off his jacket and spread it on the floor. He sat down on it. “We can begin.”

“Oh, c’mon. Eat.”

“My energy is up. Now is the time. If I eat, I’ll return to lethargy. We will now use the Universe like a radio to send our message. Let our intent be clear. See the faces of our team as if we’re in the same room with them, speaking to them. ‘Find us,’ will be our repeated words. We’ll convey images of our surroundings. They will be so disturbed, they will know this is real and not imaginary indulgence. Let us continue for an hour, then rest. Then continue.”

“How will we know we’ve gotten through?”

“This bunker will be descended upon by law enforcement, that’s how. We won’t stop until our minds have broken the barrier to the outside world.”

Before Zhao could think of anything else to say, Shen closed his eyes and began the exhalation of breath that he used to let go of his focus on the physical world. Without their powers, it was like hijacking their spirits manually. He appeared to descend into himself quickly. Zhao, however, took a lot longer to reach the place in himself where he felt weightless and disconnected to his body at all. He asked for the help of his ancestors and all the benevolent forces that exist in the great unknown. Inside of thirty minutes, he could no longer feel his breath. It was as if his body didn’t need it, yet he still felt a sense of motion. 

Without a body, one had to navigate by emotional movement. He summoned tremendous pride for his team, and their eager faces appeared. He chose a moment when he would tell them how appreciated they all were. He saw them blush, responding to his uncharacteristic affection in spite of themselves. It was like a play, in which he wrote the script and they performed it, only the feelings were real. The vision was merely an interface, to guide him. 

On the most important level, he really was communicating with them. Their souls would get the message. In that space, his delight at seeing them, was his confirmation. But he had no control over how soon they would let this “crazy dream” rise to the surface of their conscious egos. After showing them very detailed routes and landmarks, he gave them an aerial view and drew a line from them to the bunker. His fading focus told him that the communication was at an end. His brain waves were returning to normal, sealing him back into his body. 

When he opened his eyes, Shen was still in meditative trance. Every so often his mouth twitched, taught with words he must’ve been speaking mentally to their team. Zhao fell into contentment watching him. 

They knew the power of their minds and this was not child’s play. 

Zhao was particularly relieved when Shen came up off the floor and finally ate a few bites of the mushrooms. Good, he thought, if he sees that these are fit to eat, he’ll eat more. 

Wrong. Inside of ten minutes, the food came back up. Shen leapt from the bed. Puzzled, Zhao followed him to the toilet, turning ashen when he saw the contents come out of shen’s mouth. He didn’t know what to say and apologies seemed futile. 

He made excuses. “Ah, the vegas nerve. Your stomach is unsettled. Maybe even soured. That’s all. The food has not effected me.” 

Reeling, Shen braced against the wall and waited for the heaves to pass. His knitted brow advertised his annoyance and all but shouted for privacy. Zhao backed out of the tiny bathroom and waited for him on the bed. When Shen rejoined him, his lips were red from excessive rinsing and swishing, but his face was pallid. 

Zhao patted the bed. “Try again later. Have water for now.” 

Feeling the fight leave him, Shen did as he was encouraged. The danger of falling ill in this place, had caught up with him. He took the lower half of the bed, put his back to Zhao, and curled to keep his legs from hanging over too far. It wasn’t comfortable, but it settled his stomach. 

Zhao felt so guilty about hurting him, he decided to let Shen have his peace, and did not disturb him from that position. It looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare make things worse by encouraging Shen to do anything any differently. When he tried to wake him later, and couldn’t, he had to come to terms with the worst outcome possible. If he couldn’t get Shen out of here, what would he do?

The first thing, keep him hydrated. He ripped out the inside of one of his jean pockets and devised it into a drip cloth that let water stream into Shen’s mouth. At first, he tried to do it as non-invasively as possible. He wanted to show respect to Shen’s body at all times. But when he saw that no disturbance he could make on the bed was going to rouse him, he pulled him into his arms and doused his mouth properly. He figured out how to stroke his throat in such a way that Shen would swallow. This told him that he was still conscious, just sleeping through his fever. 

He’s used to cleanliness. It makes perfect sense that his immune system finds this place intolerable and has to adjust. This isn’t the end, just an adjustment period. That’s all. Nothing to worry about. He might even get some food into him yet. 

As he comforted himself with these notions, Shen suddenly heaved in his arms. Watery projection pushed out from his lurching stomach, drenching the front of his shirt. He lapsed into a coughing fit and Zhao turned him onto his stomach, beating his back, to keep him from choking. Dammit, he’d given Shen too much. He’d have to do it in drops, minutes apart, and stop at a few. 

When Shen settled again, his face was left in an expression of twisted pain. Zhao looked at his wet shirt and knew he couldn’t leave him like that. As respectfully as he could, he unbuttoned it and slipped it off of him. He didn’t stare at Shen’s naked torso any longer than necessary. He hurried and covered him with his own jacket and immediately set to rinsing out the soiled shirt. It might be dry by the time Shen was feeling better and he’d have it clean and ready to wear again. 

But deep into the night, Shen’s fever did not get better and he became unresponsive to water. Deciding he had nothing to lose, Zhao pulled his friend up on the bed beside him, and positioned him on his back, straightened out. He placed Shen between himself and the wall, and talked to him. 

“This isn’t as disrespectful as it seems. You know that, so don’t go making me feel guilty and embarrassed. You can’t die, Shen. I’ve given you my life, you can’t abandon me in this situation. You can’t ask me to watch you die again. What are we not doing right, that we must continue to come to such endings? We’ve done nothing to deserve this punishment. The Universe keeps putting us in time-out, like we’re just not getting the lesson. I want to know. I want to know what it will take to live a happy life with you.” 

It was easy to pour his heart out, with no one listening. The next day comes, though he only knows from his watch. When he wakes, he sees that Shen is still breathing, but shows no improvement. He’s been sick again during the night, and it has dried in his hair and on the shirt given to him. Zhao takes deep breaths, gives thanks to the forces that have kept Shen alive, and prepares to do what he knows he has to do. 

He cannot face it head on. He has a fear of Shen’s bare skin coming into contact with the floor. So he repeats what he has seen Shen do, locates the ruined undershirt and scrubs all the bathroom surfaces that they are at risk of touching, before feeling that he get get Shen into the shower. 

Undressing him completely, feels too disrespectful, but he’s got to get him under the spray. So he leaves him dressed, somehow convincing himself that he can sponge bathe him like a nurse and get around his clothes. When he drags him into the small, fiberglass stall, and actually tries it, he realizes that it has been the long way to admitting that he has to undress him completely. Shen is slender, but his muscles are dense and he is heavier than he looks. His uncooperative body is not easy to maneuver. Therefore, the clothes must go. 

Zhao props him up, and tries not to let sadness at Shen’s lolling head, overcome him. One of them has to remain stable and forward-thinking. Shen would do the same for him. With each button he undoes, he whispers, “Forgive me.” What if Shen’s spirit were watching the treatment of his body? What if this was a test of restraint and honor? He had to try, though being a nursemaid, was the last vocation he would’ve considered for himself. 

He made himself stop thinking and forced his hands to do the job they set out to do. He pretended nothing on Shen’s body interested him and rinsed him as efficiently as he could. He dried him with his jacket and removed his own clothes to give him dry ones. When he had him back on the bed, he used the opportunity to rinse out Shen’s suit in the shower. He just hoped it dried before Shen woke up, so that he could switch their clothing back. He also took the opportunity to drench the bedding, lathering it with liquid soap, in a five-gallon bucket he discovered in one of the other rooms. Shen was going to need to be put between covers. He was already shivering and his body couldn’t regulate his temperature as it was. Zhao could give him a proper bed that he didn’t have to fear laying on. He had to hope that the sheet and blanket would not sour in such poor ventilation. Early on, they located a vent cover, only to discover that neither could fit inside. 

It takes two days for the blanket and sheet to dry. They sour slightly, but Zhao has used them to tie up around the bed so that air can get to them. One corner is tied to the handle of the broken locker. The other the bed frame. In that time, he has had other things to worry about. Shen’s body has not relieved itself in a number of days, as if, even in sleep, the professor is too modest to let go. He has to be the mature one and make the decision to bring relief to Shen’s bladder. How painful that must be, to have held it. He decided he had no choice but to do this for his friend, and told Shen aloud as he did it. 

“I have to be a realist,” he said as he pulled Shen’s arm around his neck and hoisted him into the bathroom. “It’s either that or risk a urine-soaked mattress.” 

By now, humor was a defense mechanism, and he chuckled. “I’m not washing those sheets again, my friend. And I can’t have us laying on pissy mattresses. You’re a man, I’m a man, let’s get this over with. If he was honest with himself, he chose not to dwell on his real fear. That Shen would become septic and die from the toxins building in his bloodstream. He wasn’t going to let his friend die just because he was too embarrassed to hold his penis for him. At the deepest level, he knew it wasn’t embarrassment at all. That’s just the fight the ego puts up. He had no right to exploit Shen’s body. It was wrong to do something he might enjoy doing at any other time. It was just sad. Once he made peace with this, he took his feelings out of the equation and simply did what needed to be done. 

He couldn’t say how he knew that his idea would work. He rather hoped than knew. But it worked. He balanced Shen against him, letting his head lean into his shoulder and supporting all of his weight. He held him over the toilet, unfastened his trousers as reverently as he could, and tried not to put too much thought into what his hand was feeling for, pulling out, and coaxing gently by letting a stream of warm water trickle down the length. To his amazement, it worked, and he took it as Shen’s blessing that he was doing the right thing. For all other problem-solving related to bodily functions, he mastered them by using empty food packets he’d rinsed, as lining between layers of sheets that were torn from the bed and fashioned into an adult diaper. They were foil and pliable. He was able to create a solid sheet of them that fit easily between the layers. It worried him that Shen never used it, but also brought relief that if he did, they’d be prepared to return to hygienic conditions as efficiently as possible. 

For every victory in learning to care for Shen, the cost was stress and tears. He shed them from the corner of one of the empty rooms, where he hoped he could not be heard. There was tremendous hatred towards his captor, and resentment at not being found, but there was also significant gratefulness that he had overcome his squeamishness and could do this for his friend. It needed to be done, and it gave him some peace to see how strong he could be for him. 

“If I lose you,” he said to Shen’s spirit, “Then I am glad that I lived to do this service for you. You, who are perfect. You lay as helpless as a child and let me see things that my old self might’ve been ashamed of. The worst thing, is not being able to take away another’s suffering. You made me face that, and now I’m certain that I can face anything with you. Evil tyrants were never our true enemies. The risk of failing one another, is what we’re both afraid of. To let me see you weak, is to show me what is behind your beauty. I’ve seen you without your mask and I still love what I see. You must survive this so that I can show you.”

He didn’t know if it helped, but the sound of his own voice shifted the air and seemed to add life to the staleness around him. He continued. 

“Give me another chance. I won’t let you go. If you pull through this, I won’t let you live another day without showing you how high your place is in my life. I won’t go back to that apartment without you. I will put a ring on your finger, and if the world ignores it, you and I will know what it means. I will not let one more minute pass without declaring what you mean to me. I won’t play it safe and hide my feelings for you anymore. And I won’t let you get away with doing the same. Life is now. Who knows who’ll we’ll be in the next one, or when we’ll find each other again. Your illness has caused me to see that I must be decisive now.”

_______________________________

I'm already writing the last chapter of this story, so the wait shouldn't be very long. *fingers crossed*


	2. Contact

As Shen grew weaker, Zhao continued meditations designed to reach his team. One night, as he was wont to do, he curled up next to Shen and checked his pulse for the fifth time that evening. He took the liberty of laying his head on his chest, just to feel his heart, and noticed a light in the corner. As he squinted at it, it grew. 

It swelled into a vaporous sphere, and his heart swelled with it. He understood that a spectral being was emerging into view. None of his team could do this, so he was finally going to be face to face with the one doing this to Shen. 

In seconds, the light and countenance of his enemy stood before him. Zhu Jiu bowed. From what Zhao could tell of him, his appearance was more refined than the days when he was just a renegade extremist. He wore a decorated coat that ran the length of him, splitting to display straight trousers. His colors were washed out by his aura, but Zhao thought him dressed in dark attire. All of it accentuated his hair, which, even in the silvery glow, indicated an even deeper shade of purple than before. And it was very long now, as if concentrated with even more of Zhu’s sociopathic essence. 

He looked delighted to see Zhao’s state. “Hello, friend. I trust this evening finds you holding up.”

Zhao told himself to keep calm. He could let his rage do the talking for him, or he could negotiate a way out. He was not about to express awe just because Zhu retained the unfair advantage of not having a physical body. He got to the point.

“All right. You have us where you want us. Let’s do this. You’ve kept us alive for a reason. What is it you want? You will gain nothing from Shen’s death or mine.”

Zhu’s aura brightened, thrilled. “I was hoping you would ask. I knew that if I gave you two a little quality time together, you would have to listen to me. Ah, I love a good plan.”

“Is this what you planned by your suicide? To make yourself stronger in the spirit world?” 

Several years prior, the SID discovered that Zhu had used a sacred bottle to sacrifice himself into. He willingly transferred his life force into the Collective Universe, and fed his darkest, strongest influences with his essence. From headquarters perspective, his case went cold. But he smiled now, and revealed more. 

“It seems, even in death, good behavior is rewarded. My sacrifice was so strong, so passionate, that it woke up a few gods. More than a few, actually. Gods you know nothing of. The first ones, who are not swayed by the tears of humans. They measured my devotion and found me worthy of life and eternal service. I precede every hurricane, every volcanic eruption. I am the winds and the shifting earth that warns the masses of imminent destruction. It’s a part-time gig, but it’s fun. Those who don’t listen, I string their bodies out across the land, from coast to coast, and I am revered on greater levels for it. I open the gates of death and usher in hundreds, thousands at a time, who are ready to die. It’s a prestigeous promotion, and I love my work. So thank you, for chasing me to my death. You and your tricky boyfriend, have only succeeded in helping me graduate to my power.”

Zhao wasted no time trying to wrap his mind around this. “So you have your revenge. Evil forces have raised you up. So what. Why come back to prey on small people? That’s like making it your ambition to stamp out ant hills. So, what.”

Zhu appeared to step closer, but his light was no where nearer to Zhao than before. He moved, it appeared, in a time and space that he carried about him. His feet weren’t actually touching the floor. 

“My poor Zhao. If I had physical hands, I would pat your silly cheek. I am not angry with you two anymore. I just remember that you proved yourselves to be compatible in mind and spirit. Worthy. You bested me. And since I am so powerful as a minor god of destruction, I looked more closely at you two. I wondered how you outsmarted me. You had an unfair advantage the whole time. You are both Gods, with a capital G. Why you cheat in human bodies, is beyond me. Maybe, you find it just as much fun to pretend you are superior men as I do, on occasion. I can’t take on flesh unless I go through the birth process again, and I don’t want to sacrifice everything I know to a baby’s little brain. Not yet, though I do miss running and fighting. And you may not know this, but I died without knowing the touch of a true lover. So I watch you two gods, masquerading and having the greatest love affair of your lives, amongst all the helpless little humans. I hear everyone’s prayers. Even yours. And I am drawn to you. I am tempted to make you realize who I was when you chased me to my death like an animal. And who I still am.” 

So it was about revenge. “You chose to be a criminal, in a world where criminals are punished. Shen and I didn’t make you do the things you did. It was our job to stop you. And it was your choice to die.”

“You misunderstand me. I didn’t come here to place blame. I came here to play with you. As wonderful as wiping out whole human families and cities are, I need to let my hair down and have fun every now and then. I watch you two the way suburbia watches television. The things I see… You may have destroyed my cameras, but that won’t stop me from watching. Those were there to make sure evidence shows up when and if I want it to. Insurance.”

“Insurance for what?”

“To guarantee that you won’t ignore me. I told you, I want to play with the popular kids. I want to play with gods. You were too stuck up and judgmental when I was alive, to count me suitable. Now that I hold a greater position, I am making the rules of the game. If you ignore me, your friend dies. If you do what I ask, you both survive. You will make up for dismissing me as a common criminal, when I was ready to give my life to change the order of the world. If that isn’t greatness, then I don’t know what is.”

Zhao was sitting up now, completely unafraid. “You can’t do anything you want. There is balance. If you’re hired to be a servant to humanity, then you can not terrorize it.”

“Yes, well, you’re not exactly “humanity” are you?” He used air quotes, and laughed at the irony. 

“If I attack a god, especially one older than I am, who’s going to feel sorry for you and demand justice? Sorry, that’s an Earth thing. The rest of existence doesn’t care about any justice. You and Shen are two who have forgotten how strong they are. If I can devise a game that wakes you up to that, then you cannot find fault with me. You can’t say that I am doing wrong. There is no right and wrong when your victims are essentially more powerful than yourself. Outside forces are quite interested in my experiment. I have their blessings to take this as far as it interests me.”

“Just tell me what you want.” He was too weak to care about anything else Zhu had to say. How could he get Shen out of here the fastest? That’s all he needed to know. 

“I want you to know that you are still conscious because you are not vulnerable to the poison I’ve had sprayed on the walls. Using the hands of others, I prepared the bunker for you. Shen’s biology is woven from his ancestry as a Ghost race. The poison is an essence found only in their realm. It will kill him before it kills you. The antidote is oxygen, which is why I keep you in a controlled environment where the air and the poison have a precise ratio.”

Now Zhao was listening, and listening closely. 

“I don’t want such a masterpiece of a man to die. But that’s entirely up to you. As much as I kill and cause despair, I’ve come to appreciate any beauty that I find in the world. I love my job, but it makes the monuments of mankind all the more poignant. They build the best they can imagine. They express creativity out of their desperation to understand their lives, and it becomes something that even a god has not thought of. But without endurance, only to be swallowed up by time, in the blink of an eye. So it would be a shame to erase that precise arrangement of genetics from this world.”

“Stop talking in riddles and tell me what I need to know!”

“Like I said, I’ve seen your prayers. I’ve seen your secrets. My game is based on them. You’ll see how clever I am if you live through it. And if you don’t, you’ll really see my genius once you are on this side of things. You’ll wish you’d been more eager to play with me.”

“Dammit. He’s dying!”

“Relax. His body has defenses. His organs have slowed to a quarter of their capacity, in order to keep him alive. He could live that way for weeks yet. A charmed state, wouldn’t you say?”

“What? Do you. Want!”

“Give into your feelings for him. That’s what I want. He lies before you, as supplicant as a crimson-veiled bride on your wedding night. Use him. I want to see that. I told you, I have never experienced that kind of indulgence, and you stink of it. You hold it back the way gravity holds back the oceans. Your soul is water-logged and weighted down by your desire for him. For every pure thought you have of him, a hundred impure ones spring up on your karmic scrolls. In one lifetime, it is nothing, but in your soul’s searching, and in his, across many lives, it is intriguing to those of us who feed on human emotions and life force. The love you have for him, is considered a rare delicacy. Sometimes, spirits sidle up to you and taste it, and are chased away by others who protect you like an endangered species. In my new rank, I am above even those, and I say, I want to see you act on your passion.”

Zhao couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Devour him. Violate him. Use him the way he does not have the courage to ask you. You and I both know he is too decent to sink to the depths of such hungers. And we both know that you are not. You’ve already had him, over and over again in your mind. Tell me, was it everything you thought it would be when you finally took hold of his cock and pulled it out of his pants for him? You’ve been wanting to do that for so long, and now I’ve helped you.”

Zhao flung himself off the bed and charged. He knew he couldn’t physically touch Zhu’s ghostly form, but if all he managed was to destabilize him, get him to evaporate, that would’ve been something. He rushed at him with such velocity, he couldn’t stop when he went through the apparition and hit the wall behind it, stunning himself. 

Zhu’s laughter rang in his ears. 

“This is why I don’t understand mortal thinking. Not even when I was one. I offer you something you want, and you try to attack me. That won’t get you out of here any faster.”

Zhao heaved, needing his head to clear. He made himself turn around. When he did, Zhu increased the strength of his aura, becoming bright enough to make him squint. He had to lift his hands to block out some of the glare. 

“Hear me, Zhao Yunlan. You will not leave this room until you partake of the feast I’ve placed before you.   
I see how you want him. For years, in your mind you have used him as a man uses a woman. I admit, his beauty rivals that of most women, but that is no excuse. Since he flaunts it so shamelessly, and you want it, I will make it easier for you. You chased me to my death. This is the least I can do for you. You think I want to kill you, but you’re wrong. I want to see you kill yourselves. I want to see your lives destroyed as you destroyed mine. I want to see you suffer mercilessly, and die in utter defeat. I want to see your heart broken against the rocks of his hatred for you. I want to see you fuck him.”

Anger tightened in Zhao’s chest, but he made himself listen to the limits of Zhu’s disturbed thinking. For Shen, and because he could do nothing else at the moment. 

“He thinks he is so above everyone, that he will not survive the shame I have in store for him. I’ve had to be very crafty. I had to borrow power. I had to amass weapons against you, that you have never dreamed of. Not even as a god. Believe me, I have planned this well. When you spill inside of him, he will feel it stream along the walls of his bowels for the rest of his life. Your seed will overflow and leak from him. He will be helpless and feel it pour out of him. I have seen it. I have planned it. He will look down and see puddles of his blood and your essence, trickling down his legs, pooling between them. That’s how he will think of you. With disgust and hatred. Why kill you, when I can make you suffer your love’s disgust and hatred?”

Zhao’s comprehension stood on its head to try to make sense of what this crazy bastard was saying. “Your mind is rotted. You are so far from the cares of mortals, that you can’t even see what matters to them anymore. Your threats are impossible nonsense, yet you derive illogical fulfillment. I pity you.”

“Impossible? No. Whatever I see you doing in my mind, becomes law. That’s my power. You have wronged me with your prejudice. Now my curse will chase you until you end your own lives, as I ended mine. You don’t know what it is to make that decision. When you know, you will respect me. You will see how wrong you were to think me a common nobody. I want to see you tormented worse than you tormented me. You will commit crimes against your friend, that will have you slitting your own throat, if he doesn’t do it for you. If he does not kill you, then he will kill himself rather than live with the abomination I will make of him. I needed time to weaken you. I needed your guards down. I needed you isolated from your protectors, and vulnerable. And now you know.” 

Zhao shook his head vigorously, rejecting everything he heard. “I know nothing but confusion. You risked his life over perversions? All this trouble over idiot, juvenile thinking? You’re crazier than we thought. You’re even more insignificant than we thought. You have all this power, and you ask for something as lowly as misconduct. Why would anyone bother to respect you? There’s nothing to respect.”

“You’ll pay for those words. Remember, you can’t leave here until you do as I ask. If you never touch him, it’s your deaths. Is it worth it?”

“What do you get out of this? Even if it were possible for me to take advantage of him, which it isn’t, he would forgive me. He would know that you manipulated his life to make me act like a monster. He would forgive me like that.” Zhao snapped his fingers. 

“He’s stronger than he looks. He’s not a flower, and this is too petty to defeat us. If you haven’t figured that out in death, you didn’t stand a chance in life.” 

“You think so?” Zhu looked delighted. “We’ll see what the poison on the walls have to say about that. Nice try trying to wash it off, by the way. Your Professor has such good instincts. Pity that prolonged exposure affects him in one way, and will effect you in another. I’ll leave you to your honor, then.”

Zhao stared him down, lips shaking, as his light collapsed on itself. He stood there blinking after it, long after it was gone. He needed a minute to adjust, to decide if he’d just ruined their chances of leaving? Could he have said something differently? Done something differently, to change the outcome? Zhu’s ability to leave so abruptly, emphasized how cold he really was, in spite of extending their lives. He wasn’t going to find any compassion or mercy there. 

  
He went back to bed to check on Shen. More cautiously than ever, he felt the temperature of his head, then his bare shoulder. After what felt close to two weeks, he was no longer dressing him in his full set of clothing. He’d gotten lazy. It was just easier to keep him covered with the sheet and let him stay in only his shirt and shorts. He himself only put on trousers and a shirt to maintain some decency. The truth was, he was growing weary and decided that sleeping next to Shen was the only thing of any real value in his life. Between that and keeping their clothes washed, he relieved himself of all other duties except meditation and manually bending Shen’s limbs to keep them from deteriorating. He didn’t know if it was necessary, but he didn’t want to risk arriving at the moment when those doors opened and they needed to run, and Shen not being able to. He would’ve wanted it done for him, so he bent Shen’s arms and legs, and moved all the muscle groups that he could, to save his mobility. 

Talking to his team in his mind, was the only thing keeping him sane. They answered back, told him jokes. Told him to fuck off. They made him laugh, delighted to see Shen sitting across from him and joining in. As a professor, he was always somewhat aloof to base humor, but he got it now and his smile was beautiful. At least it was, until Zhao woke up and saw that none of that ever really happened. Shen was still asleep, and growing thinner by the day. 

He didn’t want to think about the things Zhu had said. So he slid his fingers through Shen’s limp hand and held it between them. He kissed it, and knew in his heart that Shen would be okay with that. 

Two days later, he finished the few laundry tasks he’d given himself, exercised the way Shen would want him to, and settled next to him with a bottle of wine. The goal was to drink himself into a stupor, and not give a shit whether he lived or died, just for a few hours. He would’ve liked to take a look at one of those nudy magazines, but stirred clear of those after hearing what Zhu wanted from him. He wasn’t remotely tempted to go there, not in real life. Not when his imagination had always given him something almost as rewarding as the real thing. 

He made a point of expending his sexual urges over the toilet, to make sure Zhu’s tricks could not tempt him. To make sure his limp cock was too worn out to be of any use to him. He developed a habit of stroking off to a stream of ‘Fuck you’s’ aimed at Zhu as he came as efficiently and unromantically as possible. His reward was curling up beside Shen knowing that nothing could ever make him lift a finger to hurt him. After learning that he wasn’t likely to die soon, that Shen’s body practically put him in stasis to keep him alive, some of the stress lost its edge, and he actually had enough energy to let himself feel boredom. That’s when he drank the wine. He’d already tested it weeks ago. If there was one drugged one, in a case of many, then that just might make this his last night on earth. So be it, he needed a drink. 

He must’ve had too much. That’s why he couldn’t respond the first time he felt the bed lurch. He dismissed it, knowing that it couldn’t be anyone or anything, and snuggled closer to Shen. That’s when his arm moved, pushed up by the rise of Shen’s torso. Quick, violent movements brought his eyes open. 

Shen was writhing, eyes shut, and groaning as his fingers dug into the covers on either side of him. Zhao sat up and called his name. At first he was happy to see Shen responsive to something. Anything. But then the stretch of his friend’s mouth, the burning crease between his brow, and the way he twisted to get away from something hurting him on the inside, told him that it was too soon to be happy. 

“I’m here, Shen. It’s Zhao. Kunlun. I have you. I’m taking good care of you.” 

He tried to steady Shen’s head and speak into his face, but the other tossed from side to side, ripping it out of his hands. Shen clawed at himself, as if something were in his stomach and making its way down. His groans turned into outbursts of pain. 

“What can I do? Please tell me what to do?”

Shen’s eyes flew open. They were watery and filled with fear and disorientation. For a second, they might’ve focused on him, but something else had his attention. He tore out of Zhao’s reach and threw himself against the wall. His movements were erratic and demonstrative of someone in too much pain to behave logically. When Zhao tried to restrain him, Shen pushed with considerable force, to get him off. It was the kind of shove that made Zhao feel silly for being so worried about him wasting away. There was no time to address it. Shen flung himself off the bed and fell to his knees, gripping himself between his legs. Not his privates, but deep between his legs. He began to scream. The sound thrust Zhao the rest of the way out of his stupor and he panicked, trying to go in two different directions to reassure him that he was okay. But he wasn’t sure, and that’s when he saw the blood.

Thin streams of it made deep red lines down the inside of Shen’s thigh. Zhao stared open-mouthed. He waved to try to get Shen to calm down, but another burst of blood shot from under the hem of Shen’s shorts, and he could see that the shorts were only growing wetter and darker the more Shen suppressed it with his hands. 

He had to take control. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s your bowels. You’ve been asleep. You haven’t gone to the toilet properly in two weeks. C’mon. We’ll make this as painless as possible. Don’t be embarrassed, I’ve seen everything by now.” 

He tried to get his arms around him, to hoist him up, but Shen fought him off and he had to shake his head at the hand prints left on his shirt. 

Without his glasses, Shen’s face looked extra open, extra young and bewildered. There was no sign of the Black Envoy’s iron composure on it now. Fear colored him grey, bleaching life from his lips, and he  
tried to push past Zhao, who caught him. The impulse to fight his way to comprehension, had him swinging his hand out to summon his glaive, and lash out at Zhao with the other. It was clear that he’d forgotten that his powers were not operating at optimum levels. Zhao wanted to remind him, but everything was happening so fast. His first mission was to eradicate Shen’s pain and calm him down. And when Shen’s signature dark mist, did flow from his palm, Zhao held his breath. 

Here this harassed teacher was, eyes full of desperation and primordial survival. Could it be that blind rage is what was going to save them? In the split second they waited to see if he could really use his powers, Shen stepped off the bed. As soon as he put his weight on his legs, they buckled. Zhao tried to catch him, but he went sprawling. Anguished and rasping, he tried to crawl. Not only could Zhao not bear to see this, but the smears Shen left on the floor alarmed him greatly. He kneeled and took hold of him.

“No, Shen, no! You’re hurt. Please stop. I’ve got you.” 

Unintelligible slurs stung Zhao’s ears and pierced his heart. He forgave them in the same instance. The professor shook and tried to free himself from Zhao’s embrace at the same time.

“Shhhh… I get it. This is too much chaos. Hold still, I can help you.” His tone was gentle, but the force he used to restrain Shen’s arms belied his own panic. He turned his arms into cage bars to be able to keep Shen’s hysteria to a minimum. This wasn’t like Shen. On their worst cases, this kind of reaction had not happened with his severest injuries. He must be in serious pain. He has no buffer from it in this room. 

“C’mon. It’s okay. Let me help you. Let me get you under the water. You’ll see. We’ll get you cleaned up. You’ll be fine.”

He pulled him as gently as he could. That meant they had to crawl over the bathroom threshold, never quite getting on their feet as Zhao coaxed Shen to the stall. Shen stared around the bathroom with large eyes. Involuntary grunts let Zhao know that he was still trying to suppress his pain. He resisted being moved like a man who had just come back to life and needed to make sense of his poisoned body. 

“Okay. You need privacy.” He could give him that. He decided that he needed to keep talking. Shen seemed to be responding to it, calming a bit. 

“I’m just glad you’re awake. I’m right here for you. I’ll answer any question I can. You’re, ah… Your insides are just inflamed. Maybe infected by now. I don’t know. I’m no doctor, but don’t panic. You’ll only make things worse. I’ll give you a few minutes to yourself.”

Once the water was on, he tried to walk away, but found that impossible to do. Shen gasped again when his arms were freed and he planted his hands between his thighs. Veins stood on his forearms as he looked at the red pooling over the drain. 

“Shen… ” It looked for all the world as though he were bleeding to death. But how could he? He’d been asleep for two weeks. How could he really hurt himself, unless this was the effect of the toxins.

“It’s running clear. See? You should lie back down. Um, internal injuries, they require… stillness. Please, Shen. Keep calm and still. I’ll take care of you.” Even he didn’t know what he was saying, and the way Shen went quiet, looking from him to his hands, made him stop talking. 

Their eyes locked. As the professor buried his hands in the hems of his shorts, his mouth quivered. Zhao had not heard his voice in two weeks, so when he spoke, he couldn’t be sure of what he heard through its dry rasp. 

“What’s happened? What did you do?”

“I, I did nothing. I watched over you. I took care of you.”

Shen shook his head, indicating that wasn’t what he was talking about. The water quickly saturated his hair and clothes. It dripped from his lips. He looked up from his kneeling position, and spoke as if he were making a vow of fealty. 

“I am a warrior. I am ready to die at a moment’s notice. I am not afraid of death.” He shook his head. “But this isn’t death. What did you do to me?”

Zhao held up his hands, pleading. “You’re in shock. Not me. I haven’t touched you. Only when necessary. Only to bathe you and help you relieve yourself. If you are injured, Zhu Jiu is to blame. He came. Night before last. He said the walls are poison to you. They will harm you differently than me. Blame him for your suffering. But I didn’t let him lay a hand on you.”

Shen’s colorless lips asked, “What did he say? Why this? Why doesn’t he just kill me?” 

“Because torture is more entertaining than killing.”

Shen nodded. He bit his lip and appeared to suppress violent shivers. He looked away, down at the puddle beneath him. “Coward!” 

“Save your strength. He’s not worth it. We’ll get you cleaned up. Your trousers are clean and dry.” 

Shen said firmly, “I’m not leaving this spot. I will die here. He’s made sure of it.”

That didn’t sound like the Shen Wei he knew. “What? It’s a lot of blood, but you’re up, you’re talking. I think we may be overreacting. Over excited. After all, you just woke up from someone else’s control. Of course you’re angry. I’ve had two weeks to adapt to being a monkey in a cage.”

“No. My body… He’s done something.”

“Let me see, then.” Zhao reached to touch his thigh.

Shen blocked him, lifting his fist and punting the hand away with his wrist. Tension pulled his arms tight against him. He denied him with a silent shake of his head. “It’s unfit for your eyes and mine. I feel mutilated.”

“What? What has he done?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening.”

So it wasn’t over. Cold horror and disgust rearranged itself in a dozen ways on Shen’s face, as Zhao looked on. 

“Let me see. You know you can trust me to respect whatever I see.”

“No.”

“Let me look for you.”

“Don’t. This is enough indignity.”

“We’re both men. Do you know what I had to do to care for you? The kind of maturity I had to summon? I got through that. We can get through this.”

Uneasiness pinched Shen’s brow. He shook his head. “It isn’t that. That’s bad enough and I am sorry that you went through it. But this… I can’t. I am asking you to leave me some dignity. It seems I have been the liability, of the two of us. And I’m ashamed. He shouldn’t have this much power. He shouldn’t have gotten this far. That means that I have not been as vigilant as I should have.”

“You can’t be serious. He died a criminal, he will always be one. Undermining people is his specialty and he has said that he has the support of forces that don’t care about mankind.”

“I don’t care. I can’t help what he does, but I can help what I do. Leave me.”

“No. This is a shock to you. You woke up in ice water. I’ve adjusted to the worst, slowly, day by day. If I leave you, you’re just going to take it out on yourself instead of saving punishment for the monster himself.”

Shen lowered his eyes, as if this was exactly what he was going to do. Zhao threw his arms around him, as if he could put himself between Shen and the sense of defeat shadowing his face. 

“If I leave you right now, you’ll try something stupid. Who wouldn’t? It’s my duty to get you out of here. Be prepared to be very angry with me, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Shen stopped fighting him, but remained stiff in his arms. They were both soaked, and Zhao ignored how the water grew cold and made his words shiver. He nestled his partner as close as he could get him. If there was ever a time to prove what Shen meant to him, now was it. He didn’t dare speak of Zhu’s real intentions. He simply did his best to calm Shen’s stress. 

“You are strong, my friend. Your body is smart. It new to take you out. Like hibernation, cause you couldn’t eat. We’ve made it this far. That’s not an accident. We’re meant to live. I call to the spirits, to our team, night and day. Their heads are thick, full of daily cares. But they’re worried also. They are looking for us. I feel it.”

Little by little, Shen loosened in his arms. Pelting water wouldn’t quite let them relax, but his state of mind was more subdued than before. Zhao couldn’t help but let his hand rake through his partner’s hair. It was something you did for a child. He hoped it would be taken as innocent affection and nothing more. The way Shen’s slender muscles continued to tremble against him, he knew it could be horribly misunderstood and rejected. His friend was on the edge of sanity, and that gentle caress was his way of coaxing him back to stable ground. 

“I’ve got you, my Wei. Trust me as you’ve never trusted me before. And that’s saying something. Don’t give up till there’s nothing left. And even then, fight. Fight with me.” 

Shen could not seem to give him the response he wanted. But he slumped, a testimony to the acceptance of Zhao’s comfort. They stayed like that even after the water ran clean.   
It was some time before Zhao trusted Shen to be alone in the bathroom. There were no razors or medicines, but anything could be turned into a weapon if one were desperate enough. They had a small mirror that could be cracked to rip out jagged pieces. They had loose tiles, that could be torn from old grout and broken. He only turned his back long enough to let Shen wash and dress himself. He still had trouble standing, and held the side of the stall the get through it as best as he could. When he wanted out, Zhao helped him and got him back to the bed. 

While Shen settled, he soaked the clothes and cleaned the blood from the floor. He was grateful for the running water and said a prayer of thankfulness under his breath for the hundredth time. It nagged at him that Shen would not let him look at his injuries. But he was fine now. Zhao had even offered him extra strips of cloth from his pant legs and empty foil packets, to staunch anymore blood. But to their relief, no more came. They got through the night. Shen, by staring numbly, up at the rot on the ceiling. Zhao, beside him, by making trivial conversation and checking to see if Shen had gone back to sleep. He checked through the night. Shen never did. 

Both of them knew that he was afraid that if he slept, he wouldn’t wake up again for another two weeks, or maybe not at all.   
  
The next day, pain forced Shen to risk the food again. This time, a broth made from peas and carrots, stayed down. But he had to eat it extremely slowly. One swallow a minute. Zhao heated it in its pouch, so all Shen had to do was prop up and hold it like a drink. He did so well, Zhao made sure to reserve all the vegetable packets for him. And by the end of the week, was mincing whole pieces of vegetables for him. Not a lot, but some. Shen couldn’t hide that the night sometimes brought pain, and he held up better when his meals were heartier. Zhao sneaked a little protein in, just to see how he’d do. It didn’t come back up, so he continued. 

But some nights were worse than others, and though Shen said nothing, he knew when discomfort was keeping him awake. He still wouldn’t allow him to examine his body, so he grimaced when he had to wait out the torment beside him. It seemed to come at regular intervals, but at least no more blood came. Shen, understandably, became obsessed with being clean, taking more showers than necessary, and helping to handwash the clothing they had left, to make up for all that Zhao had done for him. He needed help to the shower, but once there, he sat under the water and kept his underclothes on. With washing clothes, Zhao helped him set up a system of soap-water and rinse water. He exercised his muscles by wringing out their few garments and draping them near the small ventilation chamber. When he wasn’t doing any of that, he was deep in meditation, sending a psychic distress call that he too felt would be answered. 

One night, as Shen turned his back to Zhao and trembled through the worst of his aches, Zhao said to hell with it, and gave him watered down wine. It was red box-wine from the cabinet, and had a sedative-like effect. In minutes, Shen was sound asleep next to him. Zhao wished he’d thought of it before, but hadn’t wanted to risk stomach issues for one who could still barely eat. 

The next day, Shen wanted to approach their meditations differently. 

“We’ve both become more proficient at slowing our brain waves. Recognizing the alpha level is an important platform for selecting our course. We would’ve fallen asleep before. Now we can stay awake in that trance state. We both experience the floating quality that is synonymous with conscious mental travel. So far, we’ve been trying to mentally shout to people who are not trained to stay awake at the deeper levels. Instead of projecting to them, let’s use our awareness like a scope. We know the way in here. Let’s stay close to the property and get an aerial view. Let’s focus on one person each. The one that is the most receptive to us, and try to convince them of our need. They are already close by, walking right past this area.”

“What you’re describing is remote viewing. I have never achieved such an ability.”

“You’re half way there. When we meditate together, I have achieved the vantage point of looking down on us from the ceiling. That is beyond remote viewing. That is a conscious out-of-body. When this happens, I can see that your energy field is wide open. You are almost out of your body, in a light form that looks like you, but isn’t as dense as your flesh. You could haunt houses with it. Just let go a little more and you will be in the next energy body, which is even less dense. You can escape these walls and go find anyone with greater control.”

This amazed Zhao. “Where did you learn such discipline? I thought only monks could master such things?”

“You and I have walked the earth many life times. When we slip down into our minds, I am asking my soul to give me the records of all that I have learned in those lives, that will be the most useful now. There is too much that I can’t make sense of, so I try to understand a teaspoon of it at a time. This is what I’ve come to understand.”

“It’s brilliant, but will it be effective?”

“There’s a catch. Our success is governed by our state of mind. Emotions. Never attempt this when you are angry or desperate. We pass through the alpha levels to stimulate the higher emotions. Our personal dreams come into play. Childish happiness. It is a built-in protection, for when we travel like this, we travel on life force and energy. That means that we are subject to encounter all the energy around us, good or not so good. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that the energy will use us instead of us using it. 

“That’s where real control over our emotions come in. If there’s something your heart wants more than freedom, then once outside your body, your spirit will immediately go there. Our plans will be ruined.   
Distractions. Other people’s fears and lifeforce, that we could possibly confuse with our own. That’s no good. The pleasant feelings that we get from alpha, we are to wear them like armor. They’re highly purposeful. This kind of travel, through energy that connects all people and all things, uses our focus to get us where we want to go. 

“What if we can’t come back?”

“Not possible. As long as your body is alive, you’ll come back. You do it every time you wake up from a deep sleep. The only difference now, is that you are not going to forget and you are going to act deliberately instead of chaotically. The cells in our bodies will call us back and continue to monitor our living. It’s very difficult to escape their pull. At no point will we be separated from our bodies, our spirits will simply have greater range.”

“You seem to have remembered so much.”

“I think I had to use such abilities to survive once. I was a priest, though not in the conventional sense. My life was set aside from the secular world so that I could cultivate this skill. I protected my village with it for three hundred years. Those memories have come back to me since waking.”

“Three hundred years? When did men live that long? What time period was this?”

“It was outside the calendars of men, but adjacent to them. I was born to a race that wasn’t visible to most humans. But Zhao, you were there. You saw me a few times before you reached adulthood. You believed in ghosts because of me. We sometimes appeared to each other, to keep one another inspired, in our most difficult moments. We were beacons. Candles remaining lit. We told each other not to give up.”

Zhao’s mouth hung open, forgetting himself. He wanted to express awe, but the idea of Shen being a living representation of hope for him, eternally lit like a sun in outer darkness, just for him, would not let him make a sound. 

“Let’s get started,” Shen said, and took pains positioning himself at the foot of the bed to sit across from him. “Remember, when the pleasant visions kick in, you are there. This is the threshold of sleep. Do not go to sleep. Do not go to our team. Think of the sky above this bunker. You will become aware of it. You will be there, there is no trying. Look for people. Get someone’s attention. You will have no body they can see, so you must be creative. You’re energy, you can effect things with your concentrated energy. Qi. Find someone who is not thinking very much, and in that moment, your thoughts will dominate. An undisciplined mind will not know their thoughts from yours. Alert them. Guide them. Make them want to come this way. We’ll get better at this, let’s just see what happens for now.”

The first twenty minutes of their trance state, was spent detaching from their thoughts until both lost touch with the bed beneath them, as well as the pressures and minute adjustments in their bodies. Zhao was practiced enough to know that this is where most people fall asleep, or into a dream. They had taught themselves to stay alert, but calm, long enough to stand in the door between awake and asleep. That peculiar sensation gave him the lift he needed. He rose on the structure of his imagination. It was only a matter of feeling himself rise like a balloon in the sky. His mind replicated that motion. Trust pulled him upwards. 

At no time, was it like taking flight. He had to remember how to climb on air. He had to remember what the sky looked like at that hour. He had to make up some details, in order to create the illusion at first. But then, the energy took over and he projected so fast, he over shot his target. Wooded areas rushed by, at first dim and quickly. But then brightened to reveal distinct tree tops and rows of houses. But he was higher than the clouds and felt borne on sunlight. He didn’t know what was real or imagined, only that he had latched onto the stream of his life, and it carried him effortlessly. It felt so good to be free of any weight, to feel as open as all outdoors, and carefree as the wind, he went with the ecstasy and forgot his purpose all together. It happened that smoothly and that fast. 

He was so filled with new energy and new life, he couldn’t relate to what his body was going through back in the bunker. He didn’t care if he left it forever. If this was what being pure spirit was like, he could stay this way. In this form, there wasn’t anywhere he couldn’t go, and he didn’t have to worry about protecting some meat-sack of a burdensome body. He whipped like the wind through every surface, just to test them the way a baby explores by putting anything in its mouth. Nothing hurt him. He vaulted over neighborhoods, raced invisibly through crowds of unsuspecting people, and shot through a wall of cliffs overlooking the sea. He dashed, almost instantaneously, hundreds of miles apart. The power was thrilling. 

He wanted to find the most fascinating substances and know them from this perspective. He wanted to swim through lava and play with creatures so deep in the sea, there were no names for them. This was an unprecedented ability to play without fear of harm, on a level he had never dreamt of. He felt like he could do anything he wanted. Such immense beauty filled his heart, that he thought of space and its veil of nebulous colors and gaseous stars. Immediately, he soared, headed to explore all the myths regarding it, all the endless fascination, but something caught him. 

He wouldn’t be able to explain it till later. Till his mind had pieced together the logic it needed. He didn’t feel like he had a normal body, until Shen grabbed a hold of it. He’d been pure energy and speed and desire, until Shen needed a way to restrain him. He looked, and there the other was, beside him, talking to him, holding his wrist. 

“I told you, the energy will make you feel invincible and childlike until you get used to it. Remember our mission. Let me guide you back. Let’s find someone to communicate with.”

In truth, they were not two people floating in space and rushing through wind. They were two minds who knew what they should look like and what they expected to see. Reality fabricated itself around them, but still existed as valid energy that connected them to all other things. Shen’s touch on his wrist is what Shen would’ve done to stop him. In this space, Zhao cooperated and they both came away with the sensation of one grabbing the other. 

In this way, they returned to their task. They returned to the property hiding the bunker. Only, it wasn’t hidden, it was in plain sight and derelict. Much of the base was overgrown and no longer used by government officials. Only enough security remained to discourage trespassers. Most of the buildings were gutted and crumbling. Collapsing fences with signs, warned of safety hazards, and that it was official property and lawbreakers would be fined or prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. It was a large complex and couples often jumped the fences and got away with making out there. 

Deeper inside the subterranean compartment where Shen and Zhao were kept, was two stories underground and a kilometer from the road. Where training exercises and drills were once executed, juniper and pine trees cloistered that path. Rogue pear trees and sprawling honeysuckle camouflaged doors to the facility, which were built into the ground. Joggers, from the park nearby, could go right past, and never notice the metal doors rising out of the ground. 

Two rows of newer fence separated the base from the park. From the vantage point of their spirits, the aerial view of the park left dense forestry behind and became bright points of light, filled with colorful clothing, chatter like radio noise, and the laughter of playing children. People were breathtaking. Fascinating. Each one a light, each one spilling over with vitality that fizzed from them to one another, all without their realizing it. In a sea of life and health, from the oldest to the sickest, something thrived in each of them and moved between them the way water moves between every fish. There was never a disconnection and Zhao could see tremendous cooperation taking place in a universe where no one else realized it was happening. 

He could practically taste the interplay of friendliness and stress throughout the crowd. It appeared to be a brilliant day, and a mixture of intentions and hopes knocked him around as if they were people themselves. It didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. He saw the first steps of a toddler, and her parents applauding joy, just as he saw the purse-snatcher, and her fear bristle around her. He understood that they were all sending out signals to one another, talking to one another constantly with their energy. The mind never sleeps. It keeps going on, creating these relationships and people suffered because they never learned to question it, just go with it. 

Shen’s hand curled around his wrist again. “There. That one. She sees us.” 

His touch was nearly as distracting as the emotions of all the people. With it, came a hot stoke of Zhao’s yearning. 

“Zhao, focus!”

The girl was only a child. And not a healthy child. Not by social standards. She slumped in her wheelchair, despondent as far as the world could tell. But when Shen pointed at her, her head came out of the crook it had rested in for years. Her mind pinged like a plucked chord, sending signals to her limbs. They twitched. Energy traveled like wires along her veins, sending blood into joints and places of atrophy. Tissues and cells remembered how to cooperate in that moment, lubricating her joints. Behind her eyes, someone sat up and took notice. 

“We need your help. You’re the only one who sees us. We’re not ghosts. We’re alive and trapped about a kilometer over there,” Shen pointed. 

The girl’s chair sat next to an older couple, whom Zhao knew from the loving light that extended from them to her, that they were her grandparents. That was the thing about this energy. When you shared it with someone, you knew them in a way you could not in the physical realm. He felt their love for this child and knew, while strangers viewed her as handicapped and a victim of Down Syndrome, she was really advanced and deliberately autistic so that she could have the full reign of her mind and not be bogged down by societal demands. Her grandparents only wanted something to lavish affection upon, since they felt they had not done such a great job with her mother, in their younger and more desperate years. They were overjoyed that she could not leave them, and needed them as much as they needed her. 

That’s what it meant to feel another’s energy. Later, he would figure out that the little girl learned things about him and Shen as well. It was a loop. It gave information and took it like a wheel of exchange. All secrets laid bare, until none of them mattered at all. 

“Zhao, compel her. She thinks she’s seeing ghosts.”

The girl’s legs and feet began to move with restless energy and new ability. Zhao understood that Shen was inspiring her to get up and run, to use strength she had never used before. Her deep-set eyes stayed focused on them as her lip trembled. Not only was she adapting to how ever they must be appearing before her, she was steadying her nerve and categorizing them as real and not imagined. It brought her attention fully outside of her, to the external world, and got her spine cooperating with her muscles. Her grandparents gasped. 

Her grandmother gripped her sunhat. “Chynna, what are you doing? You moved! Your legs!”

“Come find us.” Shen encouraged her. “I will give you the strength. My body has none. Without your help, me and my friend will die. Find us. Run, and make your family follow you. Make them question you. You can do it. Zhao, help her. Let’s lift her, she’s willing to help.”

Chynna’s face went red as she pushed out of her chair. Her inner strength expanded as she realized what she’d done, and her shock sent waves of exhilaration into everyone around her. Even the couple sitting on a blanket some feet away, turned to see her swell with awakened purpose.

Zhao knew that she had been shut off inside herself for twelve years, since birth. And now, by agreeing to see them, to rescue them, she was making the decision to have what doctors would call a “miraculous healing.” He knew, it was just a tremendous amount of joy and recognition moving through her, smarter than her body. Smarter than her brain. All three of their minds, got her legs going.   
When her grandmother tried to stop her, in case she fell, her grandfather held her back. “No, if she wants to take a step, we have to let her try.” 

The old woman cover her mouth in anticipation. “But she has never walked before. She doesn’t know how.”

Her husband pulled her close and they waited with gathering onlookers. 

In that moment, Zhao looked at Shen. “I really hope we’re not just dreaming this.”

Shen smiled and slipped his hand down to hold his. “This is real. When you feel what they feel, it’s the height of contact. We did it. We must get her to the bunker before anyone tries to stop her. Let’s give her wings.”

It wasn’t his words that exploded Zhao into action, it was his energy in that one touch. How to describe it? They were already in a place where nothing could be hidden. With Shen so eager to unleash his power, so pleased, and so adoring in that moment, all that he felt for Zhao, poured into his touch. That wheel of information turned, passing through Zhao and back to Shen, giving more than it gave. 

The girl ran and didn’t stop running. She ran like someone on fire. Her grandparents could not keep up with her, so others ran in their stead. They somehow knew to stay out of her way, and let her go as far as she could go. Word spread of her condition, so they didn’t want to frighten her with force. No one could explain it. 

Shen and Zhao showed her the path. They showed her the hidden doors. They could not get her over the fences, but she tried. Onlookers had such a hard time persuading her to climb down, that by the time the evening news crew showed up, hundreds of people were milling around the area, amazed at the story. They finally recovered her and returned her, walking on her own, to her grandparents. The sensational story went viral. She remained unable to speak, but she came out of her daze with a different, renewed relationship with life. 

Shen and Zhao couldn’t say how they knew, but their success was so palpable between them, that their joy took over. An exuberant embrace in that victory, amounted to so much more. Zhao was so happy, that he forgot what was making him so happy, and lost his balance where emotion was concerned. He only knew that he had everything he ever wanted in Shen at that moment. His love was secured. For once, they were alive in the corridors of eternity and knew it. Between life and death, living people were not allowed to perceive this space. It really was like a dream where anything could happen, and for them, after weeks of being trapped in misery, the best things they could ever want, was right here between them. Why rush it? Why leave this priceless bit of heaven without taking a tiny memento? 

There was no doubt they would be rescued. They could not look into each other’s faces and worry about that at the same time. Some spectral light colored Shen’s skin, his lips, his stare. Even his glasses. It made Zhao smile, feeling the rest of the world disappear, leaving them alone together. How does the spirit mind replicate everything he loves about Shen so well? Even that tawny tint to his lips, that made Zhao’s mouth water. How wonderful that the mind of God knows how it delights him in the space. Knows how much he wants it, and gives it to him. 

Shen’s open stare remains welcoming as Zhao bends to him. If this is an illusion, all the beautiful parts, then Zhao has decided to take his fill. He’s not thinking of the rescue or the little girl when he kisses Shen. He’s thinking about how Shen is letting him, and not saying no, and it feels like everything he knew he’d feel like and more. Because this is not physical, it only looks like it, there is more information in the kiss than he would receive normally. In this psychic world, the kiss he intends, is given back to him, circulating his own desire. It rises from his core and floods forth. Shen then internalizes it and send it back. It comes back fevered with his secret rapture. It is permission, and Zhao unleashes all that he has been saving for him. They are swallowed up in the opportunity to express without consequences. 

It isn’t like a physical kiss, in which there is time to wonder and process the grazing softness of another’s lips. Zhao anticipated that, as desire filled him. But in a world without a flesh-body, there is only energy, and his excitement took off with him. It exploded from thought into being, in the same instant that his mind dreamt it. Shen was in his arms, in his hands, and in his mouth. But these were phantom things. The real substance shattered them into fractalized pieces of comprehension. There was no explaining the way they became of wheel of excitement and joy, bleeding into one another so that his touch sent shock waves of Shen’s reaction back into him. They spun in sensation, magnetized and trapped in what they wanted to give to each other, to feel from each other. 

Something Shen neglected to mention, in his preparation for Zhao, was that in this outer body realm, there were no secrets. Everything Zhao wanted to do to him, rushed forward in that opportunity. It wasn’t limited by time or space, so it came all at once, engulfing Shen like an act of God. A tidal wave thrust up by tectonic force. Zhao’s lust had held back for so long, when he released it, it struck indistinguishable from an assault. And in the vaults of Shen’s secrets, he accepted it, felt it, and responded by giving Zhao what he wanted. Exquisite impressions of hands in private places, kneading and pulling, tasting the depths of one another, and straining the limits of sensitive skin, detonated, throwing them into darkness and pleasure that poured and would not stop. 

Shen was the first to wake from it. He tore from the meditation, coughing and shaking on the heels of too much of Zhao’s touch entering him. 

Back on the bed, they had hardly opened their eyes, before Shen flung himself across Zhao and stumbled-fled into the bathroom. 

Zhao was slow to clear his mind. He didn’t want to. When he stared around the room, and followed the sound of his partner’s distressed suppression coming from the toilet, he was no longer concerned with getting rescued. That promise was assured. The energy it took to connect with that child, and to get all of those people involved, confirmed the inevitable. Even if he had dreamt it, it came together at the lowest depths of himself, and felt like a part of him was not going to rest until these instructions were played out, rising to the surface of life from a dream rehearsal. It was perfect. But more than that, Shen was there. Shen shared it with him, so if it was a dream, then it was the king of all dreams. 

Had he…? He remembered recognizing a moment of such success and dark intimacy between them, that it only made sense to reach for Shen, forgetting about the people. It only made sense to choose the tide of carefree joy. In that weird light, that was really a dimness from which he and Shen made their own light, Shen was so beautiful. So extraordinary, that Zhao could almost see silvery crystaline tissue reflected by his skin. In this spirit world, one sees what one feels. It made the body on the bed stretch taut, and flooded cells to blood boiling eagerness. How could he not reach out and touch what he wanted? Take it. In that intimacy, it was granted to him. 

Only, the fairy tale ends there. When he gave into his lust, it took on a life of its own and Zhao saw his hands do things he would never do in real life. Things Shen would not permit him to do. Like a child released into an amusement park, the first wish his hands wanted fulfilled, was exposing that hidden paradise of perfect skin. They tore at Shen’s illusory clothing, like they knew time was running out. They would only have a mere few seconds to see what they’ve been dying to see. And as soon as that appetite showed itself, another drooled at the urgency to go for the kill, and suddenly he had to have this soul hard in his hands. He couldn’t waste time on clothes. He had to pull as much heat from Shen’s reserve as possible. That meant diving for it, grabbing it, wresting sensation from it. 

He didn’t know that he would feel Shen’s literal pleasure, given back to him, until he would not let go of that enlivened organ and milked it through fabric. Later, he might ask himself why it remained hidden, when he certainly wanted to see it. If they’d both fallen into a dream, why the limitation? Perhaps when two people share a dream, what appears is decided upon by the most dominant wishes. He wished to see and feel Shen suffer the most brutal pleasure, to the extent of ripping that sacred white water from his body, for what else could be more personal? What else was the most private thing his lover could show him, besides that helplessness? And Shen wished for decency amid a current that was going to have its way with him. 

His pleasure hit Zhao like ripples deep on an ocean floor. Invisible, but leaving no disconnection. Things only appear separate. When Zhao worked his hand, giving Shen no choice but to spill in an agony so blissful, it was he himself who woke up to his own emissions and the shaking of his body. 

He was still coming, when Shen vaulted off of the bed. 

He couldn’t be upset about it. He couldn’t control it. He didn’t want to. In an atmosphere that none of them understood, where there were no secrets in joy, and strangers were happy to help, feasting on this amazing energy, that let a little girl walk, he couldn’t care what had been exchanged. How much of them he and Shen brought back, how much of them the crowd took with them, his mind was not meant to fathom such calculations, let alone fear them. It was no shameful thing to have one’s blood race so powerfully and recklessly, no matter what anyone says. It only feels like a perversion when it is denied for too long and starts to ooze in ways not designed for it. Everyone of those people, those crowd motherfuckers, were made from it. Some guy spilled over, the way guys do, and bam, nine months later… 

No, he would not be ashamed. 

Shen stayed in the bathroom for quite a while. While waiting, Zhao did the best he could to clean himself up. He wanted to fix something to eat, but didn’t dare touch the food without washing up. Finally, he had to put his head to the door and nudge Shen with a request to get in. 

Shen opened the door wearing a brave face, but Zhao could still read it. _I’m not ready to talk about this. I will never be ready to talk about this. Respect my wishes._

“Are you okay?” That’s all he wanted to know. The rest could wait. Just because he knew, in his full wakefulness, that something marvelous had just happened to them, he didn’t know the extent of Shen’s experience. For all he knew, that man’s pristine standards, could’ve suffered a real blow. Zhao’s experience was holy to him, but someone like Shen could turn the exact same thing into guilt-laden torture and defilement. He would get him to talk later. 

After a meal of beef broth and carrots, Shen made a point of doing stretches. He was still weak, but sat on the floor to keep from having to hold up his weight. Zhao let him go past his time limit. Warning him of doing too much too soon, fell on deaf ears. He knew what the other was doing. Trying to wear himself out, so that when he did have to return to the bed, he’d be too exhausted to talk or take issue with their close confinement. 

Zhao tries to give him the silence he needs. But he’s still floating on the impossible high, and he it just shoots out of him. “So what happened?”

As expected, Shen has found a yoga position that is easy to maintain. He can no longer prolong lifting his body for more than a few minutes at a time, so he’s resorted to easier methods. He pretends to concentrate. 

Zhao wants to talk about the ecstasy, but he buffers it with, “How long do you think it will take for our rescue to unfold in reality?”

Just when he thinks that Shen won’t answer, he gets, “It depends on how cooperative everyone’s ego is with our purpose. We got through. Maybe only some of that made any real impression.”

“Do you think the girl really walked? They’re going to ask her why she ran to the fence. She’ll get someone to listen to her.”

“If she truly awakened from an autistic state, it may take time for her to piece together our message. In that state, she understood it clearly. The irony is, if she’s on everyone else’s conscious level now, she will only confuse the message.”

Zhao shook his head. “No. It’s done. Three days tops. I bet we get rescued inside of three days. It’s a big complex. They’re gonna search and the story probably made the news, and Guo is organizing yet another search. I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t give into that fantasy. I want to as well, but can’t assume we’ve done all our work. Not yet.”

“And what about the rest? Did you feel that extra energy?”

Shen’s jaw goes tight. His lips barely move as he avoids looking at Zhao. “That’s all it was. I told you, when you let go of your body, it could sweep you away from your purpose. We accomplished our mission and lost sight.”

“But… it was amazing!”

“It was distracting. A dream.”

“It was real to me.”

“Then keep it to yourself.”

“Oh, come on. At least tell me what you felt.”

“Disgusted with my lack of discipline. I will train harder to stay focused.”  
“Are you kidding me? We make outside contact and I practically have the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, without anyone touching my cock, and you dismiss it as a lack of discipline?”

Shen’s glare threatened to reach out and back hand him. “Please don’t provoke me with vulgarity. I know your natural crass from your false one.”

“Of course I’m trying to get a rise out of you. We just got a free pass to heaven! I don’t just want to talk about it, I have to. You’re the most important person in my life, please open up to me. Tell me what you felt.”

Pity glinted in Shen’s dark irises. His shoulders fell, but his back remained straight. “I felt you. What else could I feel?”

“But, did you… Was it, sexual?”

He got his answer in the way that Shen turned away. His cheeks looked as though someone swiped beneath them with powdered red war paint. It was a turn on, and Zhao never wanted him to know about this “tell” lest he learn to hide it. 

“If you must hear that, then yes. It was mutual. It could not be helped by either of us. Let’s not make it worse by dwelling on it. We’ll do better next time.”

“Next time? Worse? God, your reality must really suck. What is going on in that head of yours? I just had the best time of my life, with the man I love. Spirit to spirit. Yes, I said it. You, apparently, were tortured in some dungeon. What gives?”

Shen was starting to look grey. “You take fun where you can get it. That’s the difference between you and me. Our lives are still in danger. As long as we are not yet rescued, Jiu owns us. He keeps us weak and decides whether we will live another day or not. Maybe you can relax enough to enjoy yourself in these chains, but I will not rest until his head is crushed beneath my heal. I will make an example of him, for all the forces supporting him to see. And I will take no pleasure in the tricks of our minds, which his poison gives rise to. Your attention span is easily compromised when it comes to flesh. Mine is not. That isn’t to make you feel bad, it’s there for a reason. Survival. Thoughts of pleasure only sicken me right now.”

Zhao’s heart sputtered. Even though he was sitting with his legs stretched out on the bed, he felt the ground rise up and catch his fall. This beautiful, brutal man, was right. He closed his eyes and swallowed the pain of knowing he’d have to suffer the loneliness of holding everything in tonight, while Shen slept beside him. That fucking hurt. But he remembered Jiu’s perverse threats and realized how he was already on the path that he’d told Jiu was impossible. 

Then was it the poison? And not their minds wreaking havoc like this? Could Jiu have caused such a strong hallucination? Could he invade the space that Zhao and Shen shared only with each other?

When Shen’s breathing settled, Zhao thought about the extra shot of wine he’d slipped into their soup. Shen hadn’t complained and if he had, he was prepared to argue that it would help him, that he only wanted to make sure he sleeps deeply behind these events. That much was true. He just didn’t add the part where he quietly reached under the covers, into his trousers, and touched himself while Shen slept. He understood himself to be a rational person, so did not see any threat of losing control of himself the way Jiu wanted him to. He just wanted to be this close to Shen, without offending him, and live out all the ways he might fulfill himself. It was harmless. 

But fear of Shen waking, played tag with his resentment. His urges wanted out, but his body was too tense to cooperate. He took a swig of whiskey, careful not to drink too much, and coaxed an erection out of himself. The fact that he had to put effort into it, pissed him off because he knew there was fear involved and there shouldn’t be. He couldn’t even talk about what he felt. Shen wasn’t having it. All that fucking discipline and his balls just wanted relief. This was perfectly healthy biological function and it was just like Shen to make him feel like he was doing something wrong. But he’d earned this. It was him who stayed awake, who took care of them, who kept the bed clean and made sure they ate. Why shouldn’t he have this little bit of comfort? 

He’d be doing this at home anyway, in privacy, out of respect for Shen, not because he wanted to disrespect or hurt him. The man wasn’t human, he didn’t understand those harmless feelings, which were as non-threatening as bunnies as long as you let them out to play. But try to stop them, try to tell a man he can’t masturbate when he needs to, especially when he’s living in celibacy for a boyfriend too fucking beautiful to touch, that’s when those bunnies grow fangs and draw blood. 

He laughed, eyes closed and stroking himself languidly. Sex-hungry evil bunny rabbits were way scarier than Jiu, that ridiculous son-of-a-bitch. But as long as he’s making up any visual he wants, he imagines snuggling right up behind Shen’s back and sliding himself along his perfectly rounded bottom. Bonus points for picturing the both of them enfolded against each other and Shen’s pale golden skin revealing his naked ass, offered to Zhao. Ah hell, it was just a fantasy, and so delicious that it did the trick. Zhao’s strokes went from slow and hopeful, to eager and excited. 

Familiar warmth streamed like a slow voltage throughout his nervous system. It pulled him down a river of raw need, making his hands move, forgetting caution. He’d grown so accustomed to the presence beside him, to needing this, that he almost didn’t care if he disturbed Shen. Maybe he wanted to. Maybe the risk was deliberate, because this man needed to see how much he was wanted, how much he was driving him crazy, and how much he was needed. If that pissed him off, so be it. They couldn’t dance around this forever. Their relationship would recover, goddammit!

He did have enough decency to keep it in his pants. Inside, his hand moved quickly. His muscles tightened, straining his abdomen down towards rolling hips. He knew he was moving with the abandon of being alone, almost, but he couldn’t detach from the pleasure. He couldn’t. 

He opened his eyes. Just to take a snapshot of that moment. Just to savor doing this so close to Shen. Just to wallow in the point of no return and prove to himself what a dog he was. He was doing a good job of suppressing his breathing and congratulated himself on that. Beside him, Shen’s body looked so tempting. He gave into ideas of undressing it and touching it. His eyes traveled from the pair of legs beside him, drank in the creased fabric at his pelvis, and steadily climbed, wondering what it would be like to hold Shen’s nipple in his mouth and run the buds of his tongue over it as if it were a woman’s clitoris. 

With lightning speed, his mind produced the most shameful memory yet in his career with Shen. It had taken place in the cloistered woods of Shoalin. That monastery was being run as a front for interdimentional drug trafficking. Substances that robbed humans of their souls, were being leaked into the city like an epidemic. In their most dire moment, they were cornered and outnumbered by inhuman beings disguised to look like men. After taking a beating, Zhao was forced to watch Shen being injected with the same poison that was killing hundreds of people at the time. It didn’t kill him, but he might as well have been helpless in those tense few seconds before their backup arrived. 

Those men, impostors, looked at Shen differently than they looked at Zhao. Greed dripped from their eyes and they stood around him, holding him tied to a tree. They waited to see if The Envoy would make an appearance, or if he was sufficiently subdued. They licked their lips, inching closer, and Zhao grimaced as he saw a few of them rub at their crotches in anticipation. Panic filled him. He was not afraid of death, but he was afraid of this. Of other men seeing what he saw in Shen, and wanting it for themselves. Of not being able to save him when he needed him to. 

In their line of work, they expected to be killed, not played with. There was dignity in death, and only humiliation in being held to a tree like that. They had ripped the Professor’s trench coat from his shoulders and he was wearing a casual jersey and dark trousers. It was as informal as he ever dressed, and he looked like a schoolboy as he shook his head and tried to see clear of the drug barreling through his veins. He had enough sense about him, to know what was happening, and to know that neither he nor Zhao could stop it. When those men closed in, he held his ground as much as possible. Through abusive taunts, he clinched his lips and would not acknowledge what it made him feel to have their hands on him. 

The moment was over in a minute, as SID authorities raided with a ground assault that left few survivors. Shen walked free, and had to listen to offhanded jokes from their superiors about offering himself up as bait sooner next time. 

The both of them shrugged the incident off. But it never really left Zhao. What if their rescue hadn’t happened in time? He tried not to think about it, but it crept into his head quite a bit. At times like these, when all he wanted was to comfort his body. Just a little feel-good relief. Those men closing in. In real life, it was frightening. But in the privacy of his mind, no one came to save them and even though Shen was fully dressed, he could not keep his legs closed against them. Savage hands, more than one pair, gripped his trousers and held each thigh apart. Those beasts tried to line up, but impatience had them salivating for a turn to grope the professor. Make him squirm. Hairy, fat hands and sausage-blunt fingers competed for what lay behind the lining of Shen’s pants. 

He endured their audacity to touch him, with lip-shaking rage. Behind his glasses, his eyes focused on murdering them. His mouth hardened against any sensation they tried to cause him to feel. But in Zhao’s mind, those heartless beasts succeeded in agitating him into unwanted twitches. His cheeks glowed with a shame that he could not hide, nor did Zhao want him to. There was something about how he imagined Shen would rebel against pleasure, even as wet rivulets were pulled involuntarily from his body. That always finished Zhao off the surest and the fastest. It was his guilty pleasure, and it would’ve served him well in that moment, had he not opened his eyes and saw that Shen was awake and staring up at the ceiling.


	3. Giving/Taking

His hand froze. Breathing stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed a silent curse to the depths of his soul. Instead of muscle, his heated heart turned into clay, tripping over its own urgent fulfillment and crashing against a burning realization that he was caught. 

Completely still, he waited for the shame behind closed eyelids. For the outrage. The insults, and abuse. When they took a second too long, he managed to congratulate himself for at least keeping himself covered. 

It was too quiet for too long. He decided to face it. Hell, he was a man. If Shen couldn’t understand that and cut him some slack, then they were just going to have it out. 

He peeked. “Are you mad?”

Shen said nothing, but tension around his closed lips, said that he wasn’t happy. 

“Disgusting, right? I know.”

Beside him, his friend neither agreed or disagreed, but kept his eyes forward as if waiting to hear something very specific. 

“Fucking hell, I’m sorry. What do you expect? I can only act like a eunuch around you for so long.”

He stopped his temper. This wasn’t about Shen being angry with him. This was about him being weak and mad at himself. 

“Okay, I fucked up. Yell at me, but don’t give me the silent treatment. If we die down here, you’ll be sorry you ever denied me.”

It was coming out all wrong, but he went with it. Anything was better than silence. 

Barely audible, he heard Shen’s whisper, “I never denied you. I just didn’t encourage it.”

Those words sounded like hope to him. “You’re not angry?”

“What I’m feeling isn’t anger. At least, not at you. You’re too good for this. We’re living like animals. I forgive you.”

Zhao’s mouth fell open. His whole body nearly turned to Shen. Where was this ray of compassion coming from? Shen was kind, but disciplined. Too disciplined. 

“It’s not so wrong, is it? I mean, when it’s all we have.”

Now Shen turned to look at him. “We must not forget that we have integrity. We shouldn’t compromise ourselves just because our external situation doesn’t support it. We can’t forget who we are, no matter what he does to us.”

Zhao wanted to agree, but couldn’t quite bring himself to. 

He didn’t want to be the only one looking like an idiot. What was so disgraceful about wanting the man you loved? Would Shen forever look down on matters of lust?

“It’s not a crime to want you,” he insisted. 

“Under these circumstances, it might as well be.”

Now Zhao turned pleading eyes to him, ready to sit up. “Yeah, because any other time, you’d be all over me, right? Who the hell are you lying to? I’ve been with you for years now. Longer. Under what circumstance does it take for you to let me show you how good we can be with each other?”

Shen’s profile grew tight. 

“I admit it, you’re too good for me. But I take care of you too. I do it because there’s no one else I want. No one. I may not be as polished and professional as you, but I’m sincere. I’m not an idiot just because I want to do more than lay beside you.”

“I never said you were.”

“But you look down on it. You think lesser of me, because I can’t control myself. Well I can. I just chose the opportunity not to. I thought you were asleep.”

The way his mouth parted, Zhao thought he was about to get a lecture on conduct, but then a defeated sigh escaped Shen and he rolled over, putting his back to him. 

For some reason, that was worse than being lectured. 

Here he was, dick in his hand, feeling like a chump just because his boyfriend had no idea what this heat was like. Why was that? 

He sat up a little, and faced Shen’s slender back. He wanted to run his hand down the fabric of his shirt, just to feel his skin burning beneath. 

“Don’t you ever want it?” 

He didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one. It only made him indignant, as if Shen’s silence were a lie. 

He’s angry, worried, and possibly afraid, he told himself. He’s been sick for a while. He’s not in the mood. Don’t provoke him. 

And I’ve been right here with him. How come I have to carry the load for both of us? If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d at least give him a handjob.

As he smirked, he realized for the first time that Shen had never really had normal responses to sexual advances. The kisses Zhao had stolen over the years, were entirely due to his own selfish ingenuity. And even though Shen made a point to stand by his side, he never once allowed tepid pecks to turn into heavy petting or anything close to being satisfying. He was such a beauty, long dark hair let down when they were all alone, Zhao thought he could live without sex forever, because looking at Shen was sexual enough. But here in this room, his groin urged him to take a bit more for himself. His fair share. How many years now, how many lives, had he devoted to him? 

His fists gripped the covers. He hadn’t forgotten Jiu’s ridiculous plan. He wasn’t blind to the predicament, and the roiling in his gut. How come Shen was immune to this? He reminded himself that Jiu’s plan relied on force, not agreement. There could be no betrayal if Shen wanted to give in. It wasn’t a crime if he granted him the favor and the right to touch him. And if he understood how blood can crest and spike like a storming ocean beneath his skin, he would. Shen was too much of his Envoy self to have to square with a mortal man’s vices. Still, he should want to give his body to Zhao. If he understood how much it was needed, he would. 

“Hear me out. I’ve been human. We can’t help what we need. I don’t understand why you don’t feel it too.”

His fingers lightly grazed the shirt he was looking at. Shen’s back stiffened. 

“Maybe that puts me in the animal kingdom, I don’t know. But when two people agree with each other on the whole sex thing, it can be worth it. I don’t want you to compromise who you are. But the closer I am to you, the more painful it gets to not be able to hold you. The more I want it, the more you pull away. It was fun in the beginning. Our game. Our flirt. But now, you’ve already sworn yourself to me. Why wouldn’t you give me this extra mile? Am I not worthy enough? After everything we’ve been through? Does it embarrass you so much, that you’d make me feel like an idiot for wanting it?” 

Silence.

“I know I want you more than you want me. I’m fine with that. But we’re going to walk out of here tomorrow. I can feel it. And you’re hiding behind our predicament, when we could celebrate in a different way. And even if they don’t find us, that’s even more of a reason to let me touch you. Just this once. Who gives a fuck what that bastard wants. This moment, right now, is ours if we claim it. We can spend it any way we want. Are we going to lay back to back, or face to face?”

If he talked Shen into it, didn’t that ruin Jiu’s plans? 

“If you let me, I’d show you what it feels like. I’d show you why I can’t stop wanting you. Not even at a time like this. All we have is time. Let’s take comfort where we can get it. In the end, that’s all I’m asking.”

His fingers pressed and spread into an open-palmed hand that ran up Shen’s side as he scooted closer. 

“We’ve destroyed the cameras. I’ll cover us, if it makes you more comfortable. No lights. You’ve been willing to give your life to me. I want something much more practical. If I could have anything in return for my devotion to you, it would be a night of no clothes. No secrets. No shame. I wouldn’t ask, but I can’t let this ordeal end without you knowing. I want you. I want to show you why. I want to show you what I feel. Not by forcing you to do anything, but by doing it for you.”

He nearly choked by how childish that sounded. But he meant he’d demonstrate. He could sense Shen’s open eyes in distress, looking at the wall inches in front of him. He moved his hand to his waistband, around his hips, and waited to be stopped. 

When no protests came, he tried to wedge his fingers under the elastic. Shen’s forearm came down and blocked him. 

“Why?” he whispered. He drew close to the back of his head and leaned over his ear. He kissed it, substituting the gesture for magic words he wasn’t intelligent enough to come up with. His hunger had him closing his whole mouth on Shen’s neck and urging his fingers beneath the barricade blocking them. Shen was not using a lot of force, so neither did he. This had to be consensual, or who knew what Jiu’s plan could do. For all he knew, there was a curse tied to the very sickness that affected Shen, and his free will played an integral part. 

Guilt suddenly splattered his intentions. What if Shen was simply too sick still? Just because he had some color, some strength, and was eating, did not mean his body was ready for anything else. 

Zhao gave him an out. “If you don’t feel well yet, just let me do everything. I can make you feel better. I won’t… I won’t go too far. I won’t hurt you.”

He cursed his inadequate words even as he nudged around Shen’s guarded arm. The pads of his fingers sought through layers and folds. They patted and cataloged their way around stiff, muscular thighs, easing into the sanctuary of nestled warmth, without being too abrasive. They were searching for the opening they knew was there. The entrance to hairs so black and fine, that they barely resembled pubic hairs at all. And then the pulse of that beautiful organ. If he could get his hand around it… No, his mouth. He’d convince him. He’d show him. He’d leave Shen helpless, wondering why they hadn’t done it before. 

See, it wasn’t all about taking. It was about giving also, convincing Shen to let the good in and stop being so fucking against it. 

But his hand met with resistance and he could not pretend that he wasn’t straining to get past Shen’s wrist. Why was he guarding it so? Like a fucking virgin. 

Because he is a virgin. 

Zhao didn’t want to deal with that. First of all, he refused to believe it. Virgins are too sexually awkward. Shen exudes sex appeal, he just doesn’t put out. And second of all, he’s too hot to have reached his age without someone doing something to teach him. It didn’t add up. 

“Give me a chance, Shen. That’s all I’m asking.”

The fact that Shen wasn’t saying anything, only defending his crotch with his arm, made him desperate. He moaned as he kissed into his shoulder. “Let me see your hair. Can you appear as The Envoy for me? Even if you’re not strong enough, you’re still beautiful. If you can’t make yourself agree out loud, show me that glorious sight, and that will be enough.”

Where he’d been kissing skin, his lips came into contact with plush, bountiful dark strands. Shen’s hair spilled over his shirt, over the pillow, and onto both sides of the bed. Zhao was overjoyed. 

“I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

Shen’s voice came hard and rough. “That’s not my doing. You summoned it forward.”

“What?”

“It came because you wanted it. It always does. Because you’re right, I do love you. But I wouldn’t do what you ask right now. I can’t. I am in turmoil, and all I can think about is getting out of here. You’re not wrong. I am.”

“Look at me. What’s going on.”

Shen turned from the wall. His eyes were rimmed with red, and wet. “I am hiding something from you. Don’t ask me to give you more than I can give. This place has done something to me. I don’t understand it, but I must get out of here. I can’t give you any kind of pleasure right now, and I am sorry for that. You deserve it. But I’m damaged. My body is damaged.”

Zhao made a point to gather him into his arms. “Don’t say that. It’s okay if you can’t respond. Don’t worry about it. Just let me touch you. Let me do everything. I’ll show you how good it can feel.”

He saw despair cross Shen’s face, and took it as a challenge. Rather than know what it really meant, he eclipsed it with a full kiss, not giving him a chance to turn away. He’s stolen kisses before. Their relationship thrived on it. But to actually let time pass as he stayed in Shen’s mouth, was a level of intimacy that pulled everything in him forward. He could tell that his resistance was only halfhearted, and used the opportunity to maneuver his body on top. 

He found his hold broken as Shen pushed him off, breaking contact.

“You must stop. I’m trying to protect you from yourself.”

“You’re trying to keep us from what we want.” To prove his point, he ground himself into Shen’s hip so that his erection could not be mistaken for anything else. He reached down to see if he had one too. If his fevered skin and blistered lips were any indication, he was just as molten down there as Zhao was. Shen blocked him again. 

“You’re the devil,” Zhao accused. He rose up and threw the covers back, exposing Shen’s legs. He straddled them, this time, wringing those arms away from the treasure they hid from him. For once, he was grateful that Shen could not transform completely into his Envoy identity. Otherwise, he could not have over powered him. 

“You want me, yet you fear the loss of control that you know my touch will bring. Be brave, Shen Wei. Your companionship has promised this to me.” 

It’s just pleasure, he wanted to tell him. Not a curse. Not punishment. What the hell was he so afraid of, like a little maiden who could get pregnant? 

There was a moment when the strong hands opposing him, lost their will to deny him. Shen never let go of his grip on hiding his body. He simply didn’t hold so tightly, and watched as Zhao snatched away all that he had left of modesty. He felt it leaving his hands. He looked up into Zhao’s face like a man watching his house burn, and knowing he must accept it. He tried to say, without words, ‘This isn’t your fault. You’re not ready to see this. I don’t know how to fix this.’ 

Not one word could he utter, as Zhao pulled back his clothes and found the lustrous, shadowed mystery that he wanted. Zhao’s stared, frozen, shivering at the sight. He had now seen it a number of times now, but never with the freedom of letting himself think and do what he wanted. He swallowed saliva flooding his mouth. Before Shen could protest, before he came to his own senses, he dove. 

Shen recoiled. Then ended up in a stalemate, with Zhao’s face inches from what he wanted and holding him back by his hair. “I can’t let you.”

Zhao snarled, “You want this. You scream it. You let your hair down and it calls your lover to you. I know when I’m the one being summoned. Let me show you. Let me show you!”

So close, his neck muscles strained to get his lips to their goal. If he could just make contact. Fasten. Wet on wet. That would shut his boyfriend the fuck up. Until now, their back and forth had been a complicated dance. But the last two inches of closure, were pure grit and force. Before his lips closed in, he felt his scalp uprooted at his hairline, and thought Shen was drawing blood. That fucking hurt, and sent an alarm that Shen might be serious about saying no. He might really not want this. Zhao couldn’t give that a chance, so he obliterated any by clamping down on the most sacred thing he could imagine in that moment. 

“Forgive me. Forgive me, Shen!” He couldn’t help it. It felt like salvation. He knew what a good blow job could do. The miracles it could work, if timed properly, and this was his only chance to convince the most important person in his life that this was okay to enjoy. He wasn’t going to wait on anything stopping him. This would make Shen willing. It would. This would make any man willing. Just let it happen, damn you!

He struggled to keep Shen’s hips down and his mouth filled. He was not adept at pleasuring men this way, but knew what felt good to him. His instincts told him to use his tongue and the top pallet of his mouth, to trap Shen, like a sleeve, before sucking. Before pulling and rolling his tender skin. It would cause shock. And it did. He heard wincing and gasps and felt the other tremble on knife-splitting guts that pinned him in a half-raised position. 

Shen was locked in arrested recoil, trying to push Zhao’s head away at the same time, and unable to free himself from the voltage lighting up his spine. Zhao wished that he could see his face, but knew he only had a second to prove his point and win Shen over, or this would become a one-sided attack. He threw himself into the act of causing as much sensation as he could. It was artless and crude, but it got the quivering, engorged response that he wanted. 

Shen’s mouth opened without yielding words. If his gasps meant ‘no,’ they were too incoherent for Zhao to hear them. He still pulled at Zhao’s hair, but his knuckles were too overpowered to hold their grip. What Zhao did with his mouth, caused Shen’s fingers to disappear into the feathered trails of his hair. They held on for stabilization, more than they did for freedom. 

Zhao dared to peek at Shen, and risk seeing rejection. To his astonishment, he was rewarded with a view he had never seen before. Blood rose to the surface of Shen’s face, darkening its creamy surface with undertones of crimson heat. His lips were bruise-red and his black lashes glistened with steaming, unshed tears. It was not the look of pain, but the look of being stuck, impaled by pleasure, and trapped. Zhao was delighted to see that even if Shen wasn’t human, at least his body could feel like one. What really interested him, mesmerized him, was the stare, the shock coming from behind those pupils. A man’s anger, a child’s stunned silence, and a god’s trembling power that didn’t know how to process it all. That’s what Zhao drank in, as he opened his mouth further and deeper onto Shen. 

His hands were savage in their need to explore and enter every inch of areas normally restricted from them. They seemed to know that time was running out. Either Shen would come to his senses and realize he was stronger than both of them, or they would be interrupted by an ill-timed rescue. Make your decision now, their energy seemed to cry, as they raced to cup around the slender muscles of Shen’s thighs. Zhao attempted to cup as much of his buttocks as possible. When denied access, his hands raced to wedge themselves in the darkness guarding sumptuous testicles, but were rebuffed as Shen clamped against them and twisted away. 

A grunt, more tender than gruff, escaped from Shen’s throat. It carried with it, hoarse breakage of vocal distress. It was the sound of Shen’s overwhelment, and nothing could’ve been more arousing to Zhao. His need to see Shen open like a split guava, giving every lovely pulp and seed up, took over all patience. He knew he was wrong. He knew he’d be sorry. But there was no way he could stop his hands from leaving welts and bruised muscle as he pushed Shen’s legs farther than they wanted to go. He talked the whole time, in his mind and as he struggled to keep Shen in his mouth. He apologized. Sobbed. Begged for forgiveness as be burned down the path to what he wanted most. 

He thought he knew what he was doing, and how it should be done. He pulled at Shen’s pelvis, at his hips, ready to hoist those powerful thighs over his own. Worry at hurting him, made him pause only a second. Was he really a bastard for not searching for something to ease the way in? 

As this thought caught him like a hook, he snagged on it, and saw something glisten that should not be glistening. Something subtle emerged, that should not emerge. Something, his fingers assured him, he was not imagining. Behind Shen’s perfect organs, in the swollen two inches of skin behind them, feverish tissue pushed aside under Zhao’s blunt fingertips. He could’ve missed it, had something in him not been alert and attuned to this body. As his brain tried to figure out what he was seeing, what he shouldn’t be seeing, it came into focus, and his mouth quivered to realize…   
Shen startled beneath his fingers. “Don’t! I told you… I’m not okay.”

Zhao knew that he should respond. He should calm him, assure him, but his fingers led the way, tentatively tracing across the surface of that smooth skin, while pushing Shen further into the mattress at the same time. 

Then he remembered the shower, the day Shen woke up from his poison-induced coma. There had been a river of blood rinsing under the spray and he wouldn’t let Zhao touch him. 

“You’ve been like this, since that day?”

Instead of letting Shen answer with the dignity of closing his legs and sitting up, Zhao held him in this cruel position, too unwilling to lose sight of such an unspeakable thing. 

Shen nodded, his breath revealing the strain his body was under. “Let go. I can’t bear for you to see this. Le me hide from your sight.” 

A perverse thought wiggled in Zhao’s mind, though he didn’t speak it. _If this is what I think it is, what it looks like, it’s the best thing ever, and I don’t want it hidden from me._

“It’s time you trusted me with your body. I haven’t taken care of you so that you can feel ashamed to show me everything.”

Shen spat, “You idiot! Let me go. You look at that and all you see is that. I’m not ashamed of my body. This is not my body. This is a curse. I ask to be freed from your gaze, not because I am modest, but because I am disgusted beyond endurance. Jiu should not have the power to change me. My body does not do his bidding. But apparently yours does.”

Zhao didn’t know how to take the insult. It exposed his failings in one second, and shed light on the problem in the next. And still, his arms, pressing to keep Shen’s legs open, would not give in. 

He understood. Yes, it was a curse, but it didn’t work the way they both feared. Shen had just hit upon the secret. Jiu’s manipulations hadn’t changed Shen’s body. Zhao’s desire for acceptable, sanctioned sex, had caused it. Shen’s hair had always lengthened when Zhao requested it. Jiu’s poisonous plans must be using and enhancing that unspoken willingness. But why? What did he have to gain by bringing them together like this? They had been together for years now. Why did he think there was any crime against his person that Zhao could commit, that Shen wouldn’t forgive him for? Especially if committed under the duress of another person’s manipulations. 

“Don’t you dare hide this from me, Shen Wei. Don’t you dare make us suffer this for nothing. This isn’t Jiu’s doing. It’s mine. He’s trapped us here to make this happen. You always give me what I want. Except the one thing. When things get too serious for you, you run back to your second flat. If you will grow your hair for me, on my command, what else will you do, when I ask for it? That’s our bond. That’s what you fear. How much control you’ve given me. I don’t know what’s in it for Jiu, but he thinks it will drive us apart.”

“He’s right. He’s succeeded. Let me go.”

“He’s wrong. This is a brutal, brutal shock. But I can’t look away from it. I can’t let you hide it from me.”

“It’s disgusting.” Shen’s muscles strained harder to block Zhao’s view. 

“It’s not. It’s shocking. Alarming. Anything but disgusting.”

“It’s unnatural, and therefore evil.”

“Shen Wei, you and I are two of the strangest life forms among humans. You’ve a Ghost race, don’t try to hide behind normalcy now. We didn’t come to this life to be normal.”

“Your touch is cruel. Let me have my dignity.”

“If I let you go now, I’ll never see this again. Let me look. Let me see what you’ve done for me.”

“You bastard.”

Zhao peered deeply, exploring with his eyes and becoming braver and braver with his hands. 

Shen hissed as if he were being burned, and Zhao thanked the heavens for being the one to retain his strength. He knew he’d pay for it later, but right now he thought of the last two weeks of washing and caring for his friend. He’d earned the right to see this. If they could not be pure and naked with each other by now, when would they be? 

What his fingers found, was tender surface skin, dusted with a transparent shadow of colorless, downy hair. He had to trace it, to know that it was there. His heart palpitated to discover that the faintest seem, a tonal pink-brown line that might be mistaken for a natural tissue crease, actually parted with pressure. Inside, all of the cushioned mechanisms he recognized as belonging to females, were folded away in minute detail. The organs were tucked in streamlined concealment. The longer he stared, the harder Shen’s legs trembled to close the sight from him. He couldn’t stop himself from needing to understand. To make sure. 

“Is this real?” He tried not to hurt Shen, but his fingers had to uncover the truth. Maybe it was a weird cosmetic illusion. Maybe it was merely disfigurement. Was it fully developed? Did the organs go deep inside? How complete was it? 

He tried to tell himself there was no way he’d consider using this for sex. Shen had to be in shock over it. His health had to be suffering over it. How could all of this be hidden behind a man’s organs? If he hadn’t been fighting to get a good look, he could’ve missed it completely. 

“Does it hurt?” He had to ask, knowing that Shen was too embarrassed and angry to answer. 

Through gritted teeth, Shen did answer. “The only thing that hurts, is your disregard for me in this moment.”

He didn’t know what to make of the inexplicable thing he was seeing. He only knew that he should’ve been horrified, but wasn’t. Was his mind bewitched? Because as wrong as it was, it was perfect. It was permission. A sign. Maybe a wicked one, but there all the same. Why else would the overseers of their fate allow his boyfriend, no, his sworn husband, to be afflicted? It was cruelty with a purpose. They were not meant to live out this life without consummating their union. If Shen could not conceive of doing it any other way, then wasn’t this a second chance? An alternative? Female? An entrance sanctioned by all of nature? 

Guiltily, Zhao did not let go until he saw as much as he could see. In low light, his vision clouded with mystery and glistening intrigue. He cataloged the anatomy, bringing his head close to see something no woman ever gets to see up close of herself. When he identified it, he shot down, risking a broken neck as Shen’s rage exploded. His hips pivoted again and his legs locked. He twisted to keep himself out of Zhao’s mouth. 

This time, Zhao drew blood as his fingernails tried to hold the other’s thighs back. Welts, unfelt through the fight, would go unexplained when Shen disassociated from his medical exam later. Zhao would catch sight of them weeks later, and vow never to forgive himself for an appetite that he could not explain and which did not excuse him. If he had to understand what was going through his mind, as their rescue stood right on the cusp, he would’ve called it possession. He would’ve blamed it on the poison, and not on a man who simply knew that this was not going to happen ever again in their existence. Ten thousand years of waiting, was long enough. He had to make Shen see, this was the only right thing to do. This was the best thing to do. 

He would’ve gladly taken any opening, any receptacle offered, but this… This pulled at things inside of him that were too slippery to put into words. It filled him with grunting, itching recklessness that had to move or kill lawlessly. He fought to keep his head close. His sinuses searched for any familiar, palatable aroma, and pulled it to him. Salivary glands gushed. What he couldn’t swallow, slicked the membrane inside his lips. 

The sight rose up to meet him. It was invitation enough, without Shen extending it. Again, he found himself bending and contorting to fasten on it. Again, just out of his reach, his chin quivered to line up to a perfect landing. He found the strength to push Shen’s hands away and hold them, while using his weight to keep his legs apart. With shaking, vein-bursting tremors that raised vessels at his temples, he latched on to that hidden place and would not let go. 

Beneath him, Shen’s body could’ve been attached to electrodes. He convulsed. His mouth opened on silent shock, as Zhao’s tongue shot through his nervous system. His hands stopped pushing and gripped the covers to have something to hold onto as cognizance left him.

If Zhao could’ve put his feelings into words, he might’ve boasted, “When I tell you that I want you, you’ve only ever thought that you knew what I meant. Right now, I’m going to make you see what it really means. I’m going to make sure that you never forget it.” 

If Shen thought he was cruel before, how much more cruel was it to unleash himself on something so newly formed and never before touched? Something so unprepared for what it could feel, and what he could do to it. Even he felt sorry for Shen, as he burned a path through heady aroma and slick lining that swelled quickly, emitting familiar moisture. Natural secretions thickened instantly. He went mad trying to keep Shen from throwing him off. 

This had to be the only way. The only way to convince his tragic beauty of a boyfriend. Now Shen has the equipment to see how good it can be. Zhao had dated women who could climax for ten minutes, so he knew he was onto something. If Shen was too stubborn to let himself give in as a man, he didn’t stand a chance with what women have to work with. He had never bragged, but he’d won many a forgiveness by giving this to a few lady friends, and asking nothing else for himself. It was easier to give them this, than confess that he wanted to date men. He liked the sex, he just wasn’t always up for the company. But now he was grateful for the experience as Shen’s powerful demeanor withered into something resembling that of a helpless mortal. While Zhao smothered himself in the act, he tried to catch as many glimpses of Shen’s stricken features as he could. To see him suffering from pleasure, was an aphrodisiac all on its own. 

Effortlessly, he tore sounds from him that not only weren’t dignified, but hardly sounded human. Shen’s cries were vaporous and stubbornly released around Zhao’s head, who kept at it, until a surge of violence ripped Shen’s body from his lips. The other kicked away, thrashing out of reach. But by then, Zhao himself was leaking and wanted to finish what he’d started. He wasn’t sure, but he saw every indication that Shen’s penis not only benefited from the pleasure, but released a thread of issue, proving that his cries were not from pain, but from the anguish of enjoyment. The resentment. Zhao could not tell from his face, unless fevered illness and distress were signs of being turned on. 

Though Zhao had only touched his face to kiss him, his cheeks looked as though he’d been slapped twenty times in succession. Arousal, where it met with Shen’s disagreement, looked violent and beautiful on him. 

Zhao threw his whole body into yanking those legs back to him. He took blows and did his best to plead with Shen, wrestling him back into a compromised contortion. Maybe he hit back harder than he meant to. He certainly didn’t want to be violent, but Shen had to give him a chance. Why deny him this one little thing when it was right there in his face, and never would be again? This time, when he held him, he shook him and yelled at him, “Goddamit, Shen Wei, I’ve asked for nothing but a smile for ten thousand years. Let me have this!”

His tone was more violent than any blow he could’ve made. His rage, spilling tears and spraying spittle, released itself, pouring over Shen like a pail of pent up energy. Beneath him, the other paused, not out of fear, but out of having his loyalty questioned. Locked eye to eye, Shen kept up just enough force to make it hard for Zhao to push his arms away. But they went down, and Zhao leapt to continue his feast. It still didn’t come easily, but he didn’t waste his opportunity. Seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed when Shen’s emission streamed across his body. That liquid arch jetted with enough force behind it that Zhao admired his handy work and appreciated holding Shen’s quaking muscles tight against him. 

He kept one eye on his technique and the other on Shen’s hysteria. He studied him. Studied how he tried to hold it in. Tried not to admit to it, that it was taking him. That it was too much for him. 

So this is my boyfriend. So fearful of emotions. So fearful of showing weakness. Has he never even come before? That afraid of having control taken from him? That afraid of letting down his perfect guard. 

It was obvious, the way Shen tried to block the energy that turned his body into a cresting wave. From torso to ankles, it broke down the length of him, like collapsing tectonic plates. His muscles jumped beneath his shirt and his legs kicked back into his abdomen, all while his hairline dampened with bitter sweat and saline streaks. Zhao couldn’t believe that he was seeing tears. Not on this man. Not from this. What a fuss Shen was making, and they hadn’t even gotten to the really good stuff. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve held that in for ten thousand years.” He knew that was impossible, but he couldn’t put it past the Black Envoy to have that ability. 

He wanted to be merciful and give Shen a moment, but that also was impossible. Now. Now was the time to shoot. The next second wasn’t promised to him. Shen had no time to recover before Zhao pushed his own shorts down and attempted to straddle him. 

Very clearly, Shen said, “No,” and used his remaining strength to roll. Zhao landed on Shen’s back. 

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“You already have.” 

“That didn’t hurt you. All it hurt was your pride. Shen, it’s time for us to do this.”

“You got what you wanted. I can’t do more.”

“That? That was for you. To ready you. Now it’s my turn.”

Holy fuck, he didn’t mean to argue, but Shen was still fighting him. 

“Please, please!”

Shen sounded hoarse. “You’re going to do what you want. Don’t bother asking me, when you’re just going to take what you want.”

“Don’t say it like that. You’re my fucking man. Why shouldn’t we do this? Why should I wait a minute longer? What’s made you like this, Shen Wei? Am I supposed to go another thousand lifetimes without knowing why you don’t want me? Why do I repulse you? Why do you stay with me, if you’re not willing to give me this?”

Shen reached back, shoving at Zhao. “Shut up! Shut your trash mouth, Yunlan. I would not tarnish what I feel for you with putrid fluids that lesser men grovel in. You make our promise to one another, as common as any. I keep it sacred. Without shaming it. What’s a minute of disgusting desires next to an eternity of loyalty? I am not human and have never been. So I forgive your weaknesses.”

Tears glistened in his lashes. “If wallowing in this filth is all that you want, then take it. But know that you are humiliating me. You are seeing things that I would hide from the world. Jiu has defeated me for now, and you are helping him take his reward. He’s probably laughing at us right now, watching us. You’ve lost your mind over mere skin. You’ve chosen to twist a knife in my heart, over sex. You have the nerve to say that I am repulsed by you, making this about you. I have never been repulsed by you until now. If you’re going to hurt me like this, don’t use the wound that Jiu has already given. Don’t insult me further.”

Zhao could not argue with this, nor could he accept it. Frustration at Shen’s refusal, exploded into an incoherent cry, and crushed the other man with his body. Frantic fingers grappled with his own shorts and steadying himself as he fought to maintain his desire. He couldn’t let Shen extinguish it. He couldn’t walk away from this opportunity without saying that he gave it everything he’s got. If the world called that rape, then he alone fucking knew that they were put here to do exactly this, no matter Jiu’s involvement. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, as he ignored resistance in Shen’s lack of cooperation. He had never hated the sound of his voice more. He had never sounded so ineffective and hollow in his life. But he meant it. He just couldn’t let this go, and he was sorry that it had to be this way. You can’t wave everything a man has ever wanted in front of him and tell him not to touch it. Shen was his and he knew it. It was time for him to make him admit it. He’d had years of approaching this, and still he chose to stay by Zhao’s side. He would forgive, or he would hate. Either way, Zhao had to do this. A window was closing, and there was not a law under Heaven that could stop him from taking what he knew Shen wanted to give him. 

He held Shen into the mattress just hard enough not to hurt him, but to keep him in position. He tried to respect his wishes and to leave the newly formed organs alone. They would do this like men. The thought was hot enough to make him ready, and to wish that he had something to prepare Shen. Saliva was never adequate. Then it hit him. He actually did. Without questioning it, without stopping, he slicked his fingers, running them underside, eliciting spastic jerks from Shen. He coated his hand with the slippery substance glistening inside those new, hidden parts. He used those secretions to lightly coat himself, then deep between the curvatures of Shen’s rear. Part of him wanted to congratulate himself on his creative thinking, but he didn’t waste a second. He worked himself in, ignoring erratic attempts to throw him off. He knew, by the difficult entry, that not only had Shen never done this before, but his body suffered as each ringed muscle was breached. 

“I’m sorry,” Zhao whispered by his ear. “It won’t always hurt.” 

Shen appeared to withdraw all of his attention to manage the pain and absorb shock. Zhao proceeded without him, rushing his inner walls to grow accustomed to the stretch so they might relax. It had the effect of signaling Shen’s brain to flood his body with natural painkillers. And just as Zhao anticipated, within minutes, his struggles had grown sluggish and his voice laced with an anguished, opiate induction. He fought, but he fought through clouded consternation. He grimaced from his own whimpers as Zhao began to move inside him, rutting in earnest. First, carefully, then with intermediate risk as his glide quickened. 

Zhao wanted to be as considerate as possible, but when momentum hit, it wasn’t possible at all. It took him, and he prayed that Shen got something out of it too, as he burned the details of those inner walls gripping him, into his memory. His entry wasn’t as easy as he would’ve liked for the both of them, but the improvised moisture helped and he knew that Shen could not be spared this. 

No matter what it looked like, this was the man he’d partnered with inside and outside of life. He knew him. Shen was a fucking God. They both were. If they let themselves get into this much trouble in order to have sex, then neither wanted it to be easy. They weren’t living for peace and comfort. They were living for each other. They were living for that unapologetic energy that did not ask permission to feel as much as it wanted, and to bloody itself as much as it dared. He heard breaking, muffled cries beneath him, and pushed anyway. He couldn’t stop the sweetness leading him deeper and faster. He couldn’t stop his pace. Even he didn’t want to speed up that fast, to have it over with too soon. But the sounds he pushed out of Shen, caused his own excitement to spike, leaping ahead of him to spill over itself. He was coming in the next second, far too soon to be satisfying. No breaks, like a car he couldn’t stop, he just had to go with it, grimacing as his body pumped its fluid out of him. 

If he could’ve counted the seconds in which Shen was nothing more than a receptacle to him, he might’ve gotten to twelve. It was such a hard extraction, that he honestly couldn’t care what was going on with Shen at that moment. When he could move, he felt cheated that their lovemaking had to be so quick and bitter. It simply wasn’t satisfying, and it wouldn’t be until he made Shen admit that he wanted it too. But from the looks of things, this ghost-man, suffering beneath him, that wasn’t going to happen. Shen’s eyes were now closed against some bitter anguish and he refused to look at Zhao or acknowledge him. 

Sweat dripped from Zhao’s face onto his chest. He called Shen, and knew that he was being shut out. He made a decision, out of anger and self-loathing, out of feeling rejected and lied to about what Shen was doing in his life. If he was going to play the victim, a thing he has never done, then Zhao would take the other role. He knew it all of a sudden. He was sure. All this drama, was the only way that Shen could ever let himself be taken by another man. If it didn’t look real, if he wasn’t convinced of his own helplessness, he was the type of prude who could never spread his legs for anyone. His was a dominant personality, and this cherade was the greatest gift he could’ve given Zhao. But he had to admit it. And because he couldn’t, neither could Zhao stop. 

He ripped Shen from the mattress and pulled him onto his back. He cursed at the red, hot streaks that now smudged his complexion. Not because they were obvious distress, but because they turned him on. Outsiders weren’t meant to read this language, but he knew that the blood rising beneath Shen’s skin, were the equivalent of lipstick and rouge. All for him. Quite a show. He’d gone quiet, but wetness seeped from the corners of his eyes and Zhao accepted them as the gifts of ecstasy that they were. 

When he guided himself into Shen’s newly formed parts, both locked stares for the second it took to break through. There was a moment, too much pressure, a slip, a tear, too quick to undo. Too painful to take back. Too alarming to withdraw. Back out now, and he wasn’t going to be able to get back in. Shen’s limbs fought around the pain, and Zhao made a slab of his body so that he could not be pushed off. Ride the pain. Stay inside till the worst is over. Shen’s body would have to accept him, remember him, and grow to only accept him. He waited out the thrashes, whispering softly and telling Shen that this was the only way. 

“Forgive me. Please! You had years to run from this fate, yet you stayed by my side. I have to have this, Shen. Forgive me.”

These words slobbered from his mouth even as the inner walls of Shen’s body stretched and tore to make room for him. He gambled everything on the fact that this man had searched for him for eons. Something like this wasn’t going to destroy their love. It wasn’t. He was just another jerk in this lifetime, unworthy of Shen, but unwilling to deny himself a minute longer. This god knew exactly what his limitations were, and still, he had allowed himself to become trapped in this moment. 

_Don’t think like a human,_ his mind whispered with each stroke. _Humans are fragile. Shen is not._ Just because he has an angelic face, doesn’t mean he’s vulnerable. He’s only vulnerable when it suits him. He can smile while beheading hundreds. His costume has to be convincing. Neither of you would have it any other way. Take it. Do it. 

Zhao didn’t know if he was talking to himself or to Shen, but it didn’t matter. Yeah, they bled like ordinary people, but they kept coming back to this world, end after end. Couldn’t they, for one fucking moment, just admit there are no rules and fuck the hell out of each other? Admit it, Shen. Admit it!

That’s what each thrust meant to him, and he didn’t let up. He didn’t go easy. Maybe when he’d gotten it all out, then he could slow down, but not now. He burned too hot, and Shen’s stone resistance only gave him something strong enough to push against. 

_Remind him that it won’t always hurt like this._

Screw that. This is an eternal goddamn being. He should know that better than I do. 

Leaning over him, gripping the mattress so that he could not be thrown off, he drove himself to the hilt, crushing with his demands. He traveled as much of that velvet enclosure as he could get and dared Shen to pass out. Rewarded with opiate intoxication, he held on, fearful of only one thing. Falling outside this stream of pleasure. Waking up from this too soon. His bliss spiked, rushing up his spine and sending currents of excess energy barreling through every limb. If he could’ve seen his own aura, it would’ve looked like a geyser, spraying his life force around him, and capturing Shen in its ambient light as well. 

It was a hard end. The only bliss, was in Zhao’s mind. He rode his convulsive jerks to the end, hating to return. Before he opened his eyes, he knew that he had no choice but to return to a world of damage. He had told himself everything he could think of, every lie, in order to have this. If he had to spend the rest of his life cleaning up this mess, he would do it. Shen’s forgiveness was worth it. 

Beneath him, the man he loved, said nothing. Eyes closed, Shen seemed to have lost his will to fight, and only appeared to want nothing but air and recovery. Tension locked his face into drawn resolution, but he said nothing as Zhao lifted his weight off of him. Nervous fingers pulled at the hem of Shen’s crumpled shirt, and tried to cover his stomach with it. Shen looked at him then, and knocked his hand away. 

Zhao made the mistake of looking into the red rims accusing him. He deflected that black gaze by shakily fixing his clothes and making an effort to cover Shen. 

“It’s not a big deal. You’ll see.” His voice betrayed him. It shook like an inexperienced teenager’s. He raked his hair, sniffing back his guilt. “I couldn’t help it. You know that. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you. I promise, we’ll get out of here and we’ll never have to talk about this.”

His promise was worthless to his own ears. He wiped away his tears before Shen could see them. “Dammit, Shen, I’m fucking sorry! I’m mortal. How the hell am I supposed to say no to something I’ve always wanted? I’ve prayed for this. No, I’m not sorry. I’m not!”

Confusion ricocheted off the walls of his skull. “Are you okay? Just tell me you’re okay. If you never forgive me, just let me know you’re not… ruptured or something. I didn’t mean to lose control like that. I’m a bastard. I’m worse, I know.”

When Shen didn’t answer, Zhao thought to peek at the damage he’d done. “Are you bleeding?”

An attempt to raise the cover, got him a very decisive shove. Shen meant it. His stare was back to its deadly intensity, warning.

Zhao put his back to him and sat over the edge of the bed. If Shen wanted to stab him with something from behind, he’d let it happen. “It’s just sex. We’ve held back for so long. There’s bound to be some collateral damage.”

His laugh was more of a wince. And when he heard how defeated it sounded, it turned into sobs. Quiet and irredeemable. 

In all honesty, he didn’t know what he was crying for. Running like a child into Jiu’s trap, or knowing that Shen would probably leave him over this. Certainly move out and go back to the apartment he kept, if he didn’t leave the building all together. 

“You’re my man, Shen. Everybody knows that. Why such an impossible price to have this night with you? I mean, why can’t I just lay with my lover, and not have him fight me? Despise me. If things were different… If I had the twat, I’d let you inside me any way I could. Just to hold on to you. If I could take your place, I’d put a saddle on and let you ride me like rodeo bull in heat.”

He shivered. The room’s temperature seemed to plummet in the aftermath. 

“I’m not asking anyone to put up with that shit. You shouldn’t have had to. But it could’ve been easier. If you’d been willing, it could’ve been easier on you. I didn’t think I was a monster. Now I know.”

He listened to the sound of his own regret until he felt Shen’s hand on his back. He turned. 

Plastered to the sheets, Shen stared from his feverish state. He spoke with more firmness and certainty than Zhao could muster.

“Shut up.” The bed shook under his insistence. “Don’t make me regret what I’ve given you.”


	4. Consequences

A/N: Oops! There is actually at _least_ one more chapter after this. Depends on how much detail wants to come. This was originally part of the last chapter, but it kept growing, so I split it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Zhao would’ve turned, ready to pull Shen into his arms and bathe him with tears of gratitude. But he only had time to register his shock, stare over his shoulder, and jump a the deafening explosion that shook the bunker. Dust fell from the ceiling, powedering Shen’s hair. Hollow ringing filled their heads. Shen tried to sit up, but Zhao heard the stomp of military boots clamoring over bare concrete, and pushed him back down. Another explosion, and somewhere, doors flew off their hinges. Garbled shouts of their names echoed through the corridors. Amazed and panicked at the same time, Zhao made sure that Shen’s clothing covered him before yelling in response. 

Relief and uneasiness kept Shen’s expression closed. He kept still and braced himself to be seen in such an unfavorable condition. He had greater problems than injured pride, than failing their mission, and his silence committed to keeping his secrets to himself. 

SID Task Force burst into the tiny room, guns aloft, until they determined Shen and Zhao were the only two. Medics were then allowed to enter while the other areas were searched. Shen refused treatment, but their Superior Officer argued back with him. 

“Young man, you look like hell. I don’t give a damn what you want. You’ve been missing for almost two months, it would be irresponsible to let you just walk out. The department is not going to shoulder that kind of negligence. I don’t want to hear a word of protest.”

Zhao was allowed to walk to the ambulance. Shen was not. He tried to keep his eyes on him and answer as many of his colleague’s questions as he could. Guo, Zhu, Chu, and the others, they were all waiting outside, amid flashing cop cars, news vans, and the encroaching public. Chu batted a microphone out of Zhao’s face and Zhu shoved her jacket over his head, yelling at reporters that her chief couldn’t be expected to comment at a time like this. “Give him some fucking room. Pigs!”

Security was stationed on every hospital floor, to keep reporters and rif-raff out of their rooms. Zhao gave his report after being examined and treated for pneumonia and toxicodia, both due to a strange bacteria found in his blood. Shen would not allow nurses to draw blood and lay in reconciliation, in a room down the hall. During the week that he was restricted to bed rest, he refused to sleep, distrustful of anyone looking at his body more than he wanted. Zhao visited him every chance he could, but found he had to wait outside while doctors argued with Shen and threatened to go around his wishes legally. 

When they left, shaking their heads, it was his turn to go in and talk Shen into staying in bed and not sneaking out of the hospital. “It’ll look suspicious if you don’t cooperate with them. We’re still a part of the investigation.”

“And what will it look like if they find out about me? What of the state in which we were found? Two men, one bed, clinging to each other like that?”

“We have to tell the right people. Not traditional doctors, but Dixingian doctors. That bacteria is in your blood too. There’s no shame in getting help for this.”

“I will not subject myself to ignorance and medical curiosity. My recovery is slower than yours, but I’m healing. Fresh air, a good diet, are all that I need. When my Envoy abilities return, I’ll heal my body, myself.

He spoke with the conviction that Zhao remembered and loved about him, so he gave him time to do things his way. He held Shen to it, almost relieved that he did not wish to discuss the matter further. They both knew that an unfinished conversation awaited them. Another two weeks on leave, during which there were parties celebrating their return, media blitz, and friends constantly checking in on them, that their schedules made it easy for Shen to retreat to his old apartment when Zhao’s attention was elsewhere. 

Two months after being rescued, Zhao confided in his mandatory meeting with a SID-appointed shrink, that he was giving Shen his space. He could hardly say that Shen was no longer sleeping in their shared space. He couldn’t look at the fact that Shen appeared to reject his every touch, without feeling the need to vomit. He knew what he’d done to cause that. That was his fault and he wasn’t going to drag Shen’s name through a mess he created. He wasn’t going to push him. He would’ve rather been exposed than have shen hold it all in, but that held the greatest risk for Shen, not him. As for Shen, he didn’t go to the mandatory therapy sessions at all. Zhao finished six weeks without him and kept telling everyone that Shen didn’t need them because he was fine. 

  
After a point, he didn’t believe that lie. Shen was gone from his apartment too much. He began avoiding Zhao completely. When Zhao wanted answers, he had to break into Shen’s apartment to find them. Instead, he found boxes stacked along the walls and evidence of moving. His heart sank on this prospect. It never occurred to him that Shen would uproot himself over a case. Not even a bad one. He wanted to deny that he was seeing what he was seeing. It hurt too much and there was no time to process it. After a bit of snooping, what he found were medical books. Female anatomy books. Childbirthing books. 

This was alarming enough to cause him to hack Shen’s computer. He knew he wasn’t proficient when it came to technology, so that made Shen’s email trail all the more disturbing. He’d been corresponding with medical experts for weeks, pretending to do research for a paper. His most concerning emails were exchanged with an anthropologist, a doctor of ancient customs and techniques of Dynastic China. He’d asked about the mythical warriors, called Sho-shaya. They were purported to be female warriors who cultivated the ability to perform self-incisions to birth their children. Black and white footage of the last descendants performing this act, was said to be under lock and key, prohibited to the general public by the government. Shen wanted to study the footage for its authenticity. The doctor regretted being unable to help him gain access. 

This told Zhao two things: Shen thinks he’s pregnant, and he’s still too weak to use his Envoy powers to change back. If he could fix his body, he could also breach any vault to get the information he wanted. The fact that he was going after mythological conjecture, meant that he was desperate. Whatever was really happening with his body, he was fearful enough to seek help in fiction and lore. 

The question of pregnancy caused Zhao’s mind to skid, slipping on disbelief. That was too much to think possible. Yet, the impossible still stared him in his face at night. It continued to taunt him, daring him to lick it, fill his mouth with it, try it on for size. What he’d done with Shen was supposed to be impossible too, wasn’t it? 

Would Shen cut himself open? Was there really a child, and if so, was he trying to save it or kill it?

He rubbed his eyes, arranged everything the way he’d found it, and slunk back to his own apartment. He stayed up all night, thinking. He practiced confronting Shen over and over in his mind. It never went well. Dawn came, reaching him on the sofa. He heard a key turn, a hallway away, and jumped up, grabbing his car keys. He knew that Shen would rush in and rush out. He didn’t have classes, that meant there was nothing keeping him near the campus today. Wherever he went on weekends, Zhao wanted to go too. He kept himself from being seen and waited for Shen to get back in his car. 

Behind the wheel, Zhao put on sunglasses and thrummed the empty seat beside him with impatience. Shen came out all right, disguised as a harmless professor. But he was met by two men in jumpsuits. Zhao observed enough of the exchange to realize they were movers. He suddenly knew what he was going to do with the whole day. Spend it learning about Shen’s new place and working up the courage to make him come back home to get real, professional help. 

He stayed two cars behind, glad that he’d put a tracking device on Shen’s vehicle months ago. The Black Envoy could come and go without needing a car, so he only drove it when keeping up appearances for his colleagues or students. Tracking it had been useless until now. He wasn’t surprised when they left the city and the road gave way to more and more countryside. When they were truly off the beaten path, it became impossible to stay hidden. They were the only two cars on the road, which wound through wilderness and a few small villages, until pavement turned to rocks, then dirt. Shen pulled over and began walking on foot. 

Zhao, knowing his cover was probably busted, hurried and followed him. The hour and thirty minute drive ended at the long driveway of an overgrown cottage. As Zhao walked it, he could see that at one time, beautiful stone covered the bare spots of crab grass and dried mud. At one time, someone had an elaborate garden, lined with white stone, that led right up to a tiny cottage. Now the pace receded into shrubs that had taken over. Paint-pealing and wood-cracked from decades of sun and disuse, the place had a well and plenty of work to do for someone who needed the distraction. Someone who wanted to take his mind off things, to work with his hands and get back to the raw earth. Someone planning to cut themselves open, in case they didn’t make it. No one would find him for weeks. No one was going to save him out here. 

The more Zhao thought about it, the angrier he got. So this is where they have it out. He saw Shen enter and waited to quell his temper. Weeks of not discussing it, not saying the things he needed to say, without even knowing what that was, made him swallow his frustration. 

He stomped up the path to the house, not caring if Shen saw him. Before he could knock, the door swung in. 

The professor that he knew, _his_ professor, met him with a stern face. “What are you doing here?”

Zhao faked being shocked. “I might ask the same of you. Um, last I heard, you and I were living together. I turn my back for one second, to give you peace, and you fucking move out on me! Without a word.”

Shen’s mouth tightened. Instead of stepping aside, he came out onto the porch, closing the door as if he didn’t want Zhao thinking about entering. This only pissed Zhao off even more. 

“Stop right there.” Shen might’ve been making a point to his students. “You have assumed that I moved out. I did not. I’m moving some things. I bought this property to do research. To get away from the city and heal.”

“You invested in property without consulting me? We’re more than partners, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I couldn’t have you talk me out of it.”

“And the place is a wreck. What kind of work does it need inside? What makes you think you’re up for that? I saw the movers. Please tell me you have contractors already in place, because I wouldn’t let my pet pig live in a rotten place like this.”

“I’ll have you know, this is valuable real estate. I plan to do as much of the work as possible, myself. Physically, it will be therapeutic and beneficial. Mentally, it will give me focus. Emotionally, it will keep me motivated.”

“Motivated? What about your students? What about our cases?”

“I’ve made arrangements to leave the university in another month. I will work with you when I can, for as long as I can.”

“What does that mean?” Zhao wanted to hear him spell it out. 

A great sigh rolled out of Shen’s chest. “I still live with you, Zhao. I bought this place so that I can recede into the shadows when I need to. The work this place needs, will clear my mind.”

Zhao shook his head. “I’m not buying it. You came here to get away from me. To get away from all prying eyes. There’s nothing you can do here, that you can’t do in our apartment.”

Shen looked like a kid ready to tell a lie, any lie. He brought his hands together and stared at the floorboards between himself and Zhao. 

“I need to get away from you. You know that. You also know that it isn’t because I’m angry or upset. It’s because I have to think things through. I have decisions to make, and I don’t want them to affect you.”

“Shen Wei, you bastard. You are not going to leave me out of my kid’s life. I saw your books. I read your emails. You can yell at me all day long for invading your privacy, but dammit, I’m not letting you come out here to die, just because you don’t want a fucking doctor to know how you got pregnant.”

Tension pinched Shen’s expression. First his cheeks colored, then grayed as disgust gave way to nausea. He stepped back. “I will not speak of such things. Leave.”

“You can’t kill our kid! Hate me as much as you want, but don’t let your embarrassment, your goddamn trauma, be the death of our kid. I’m not going anywhere until you promise me.”

“You’ve made assumptions. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t I? Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you’re not pregnant.”

“I’m still a man. You shouldn’t remind me of that night, let alone fantasize that anything positive could come from it.”

“Are you healed?”

“I’m healing.”

“Did you come here to kill our kid without anyone finding out?”

Shen’s eyes snapped up. “I am a god. It’s my nature to kill as I see fit. You have never had a problem with that.”

“I’ve never had a child before. And you’ve never killed innocent people.”

Coldly, “There is no child. And all those criminals who bloodied our pasts, were someone’s children.”

Zhao reached to grab his arm. “You can’t compare our child with murderers and monsters.”

Shen jerked away. “There is no child. Only cells that are trying to become one. I have time to stop it. It wasn’t meant to happen. You told me yourself, what Jiu decided.” 

“My god!” Zhao’s fingers clawed at the air, curling on his realization. “I thought Jiu meant attacking you, would make us turn on each other. It did, but not the way he intended. It’s this kid. He knew this was possible.” 

“Not only did he know it, he saw to it. This is his doing. Therefore, it cannot be trusted. We don’t even know what’s really growing inside of me. But one thing is certain. He designed this, and his designs cannot be allowed to thrive. If I knew how to end it this minute, I would. I’ve done my best to spare you. I can’t help it if you choose to learn more than you can handle. You’re not meant to have this thing that you think you must save.”

Zhao searched for the best words, rolling his eyes across empty air, and still seeing no help come to his aid. “You’re just scared. Maybe for the first time in your existence, you’re scared. Congratulations, now you know what humans feel like. Don’t panic. Let’s just see what’s at the end of this whole thing. Don’t make a rash decision. No matter what Jiu did, that’s our flesh. For ten thousand years, we have never been given anything like this. Let’s just wait and see if it’s what we think it is, before sentencing it to death. It can’t help how it got here.”

Shen was unmoved. He stared. “After you told me what Jiu said to you, I went back to the evidence archive and retrieved his suicide jar. With the help of the Crow Queen, I summoned him to speak the truth. He witnessed us that night. That was all he wanted. When it was done, he led the SID to that bunker. It was just so convenient that we were rescued when we were. He said that was just the beginning. A setup. Here’s the real curse. If I kill this thing before it’s born and try to escape this fate, you will die too. It’s yours and it’s tied to you, through his powers. This is how he laughs at our union. He mocks it. He makes it a prison. 

“I cannot be my full male form, unless I see this through. If I wait and suffer it out, you will live, and my body might return to normal. He would not guarantee it. The child will be stillborn. It is derived from a curse and it can’t live outside of my body. All I have to do, is keep it alive long enough to save you. I don’t think my bone structure will allow it passage out, without killing us both. Not without my Envoy strength. So I’m studying how to survive taking it out, myself. I needed to get away from you, to explore that. It can’t live, Zhao. Don’t get your hopes up. 

“Jiu has seen our ten thousand year journey, and this is how he humiliates us. Life and death are games to him. He has no other amusement. He would use my body to make me dance like a clown before cutting out my heart and casting our child into the sea. It’s best if we don’t speak of it as if we’re going to have any kind of a life with it. Children have no business in our work. Even if it lives, I would not give Jiu’s poison a chance to spread. It must die. Let it. Only then will our ordeal be over.”

The shock of hearing Shen admit to his plans, held Zhao to the spot. Mouth open. Grieving for a child who was only minutes old to him. He couldn’t rise above the pain to speak sensibly. When Shen saw that nothing intelligible was coming from him, he stepped back into the house. He turned, delivering final words. 

“Go home. Sit with it. Accept it. This is not going to be fixed today, or ever. I’m only choosing one hell over another. If you have to grieve for this impossible thing, for the rest of your life, at least you will still have a life. If I make any other decision, you won’t. That’s the curse. Go home. I’ll be back in class on Monday.”

Flakes of paint wafted as the door closed. Zhao stared at its dry wood until his feet began moving on their own, backing away. He fell, distractedly, into his car. His head was full of impossible dead ends, as his mind ran to work out a solution. But his heart sat like a brick in his chest and it was a full hour before he snapped out of it long enough to start the engine and head back. He didn’t want to leave without a fight, without championing his unborn kid. But he had to concede to the blow that left him barely able to drive back to the city. He felt as though he were crawling very slowly. So that’s how deep Jiu’s tricks went. That was serious. 


	5. Promise

Zhao knew what he wanted, but it took him a week to talk himself into believing he could have it. His kid, his husband, and his life. No goddamn serial killer was going to turn everything he loved into a pile of shit and walk off laughing into spiritland. He had contacts. Supernatural and Extraterrestrial. He would just have to spill Shen’s secret in order to get him the help he needed. He started doing his own research and calling in favors from court experts he’d met over the years. If Shen could be saved, he’d find a way. If their child could be saved, that was definitely what he wanted. Shen didn’t have to face this alone, the sole one responsible for who lived and who didn’t. If he was willing to tear his body inside out, to keep him alive, then Zhao was willing to go to any length to make sure it didn’t come to that. 

He wanted to tell Shen this, but they were seldom in the same room together after that. When pressed, Shen always reminded him, “I’m not avoiding you because I hate you. This is for the best. It’s only for a short while.”

Zhao took a good look at his calendar and started doing the math. He didn’t know if traditional human gestation could be trusted in a matter like this, but he used each passing week as a guideline. He extended his leave from work and began following Shen every chance he got. 

Without his Envoy powers, Shen could not stop him, but could outsmart him. He managed to evade Zhao’s spying eyes for days at a time. Zhao began sleeping in his car at the end of the old country road. He sometimes spent all night, crouched in bushes, trying to catch a glimpse of Shen bent over his desk through a window. He used spells that he’d paid for, to see through walls. He studied Shen’s body, trying to determine if there were any of the same typical changes that women went through. To his shame, he spied on him bathing and did his best to keep his thoughts respectful. 

The only real changes he saw, was that Shen continued to wear formal suits to his classes, but on his property, he began wearing a traditional changshan. When he no longer had to go to class every day, he stopped cutting his hair each morning, just to appear normal. The sight of it, growing past his waist, took Zhao’s breath. It made him dream of moving in and fixing up the place with him. They could work this out. Shen could stream his classes, give up the criminals of the world, and stay with Zhao to raise their child. He, Zhao, would get to see this every day. If he could wake up to this beautiful man coming and going in the sun, ancient and strong, his long hair spilling as he hands his husband that first cup of tea in their morning bed, he would ask for nothing more. It was a life worth dying for. 

Months passed. Shen cleaned up the landscaping and planted a small medicine garden. He bought chickens and built a pen. At night, Zhao snuck onto the property and added some improvements. He didn’t like Shen’s living conditions but it could’ve been worse. Someone like him could’ve just as easily chosen to live in a cave, far from civilization. The Black Robe Envoy was that private, that secretive. He supposed that he stayed near the city for convenience and research. When he did leave, Zhao broke in and fixed small things he saw, leaks under the sink, loose floorboards, bought a proper refrigerator to replace that college dorm ice-box thing, and had the exposed wiring inspected. He paid a contractor three times the amount to rush-install a dishwasher and a new oven range when Shen was out for a few hours. He never made any attempt to hide his assistance, and Shen accepted his help by not saying a word against it. 

If his husband wanted a peaceful spot in the middle of no where, without him, he’d support it for as along as it made sense to do so. If he went in there smashing things and demanding his way, he couldn’t be sure that he would ever see him again in this lifetime. No sudden moves. Don’t scare him. He’s not used to being vulnerable, even if he can’t admit it. He’ll run. He’s used to freedom and answering to no one. Show him support, don’t let him know that you hate the distance between you with everything you’ve got. 

Shen’s place was so far out, there was no daily post. He hired a delivery service through the university, to bring him supplies, pick up his mail, and other requirements. Zhao saw the van back up to his porch a few times. He questioned the red, bio-hazard crates being delivered and slowly pieced together why Shen was digging another garden in back. At first it horrified him to think that the plot might be a little human grave. Over his dead body. 

But then, there appeared more of them. Three. Zhao found himself on his hands and knees in the middle of the night digging them up with a flashlight between his teeth. He was desperate not to see something and needing to see it at the same time. Black dirt caked under his fingernails as he tossed his shovel aside and raked soil with his hands. He had a trunk full of tools and no patience to use them properly. Tears of relief streaked his face when he saw that Shen had buried the corpses of laboratory monkeys. But they were replaced by horror as he saw the surgeries practiced upon them. Shaved areas of skin, still discolored by yellow antibacterial coatings. All of them were female monkeys. All of them had extended bellies, stitched back up as carefully as if they were going to recover and awaken from their anesthetic sleep at any moment. How thorough, his husband was. 

It sickened Zhao, not that Shen experimented on animals that were already dead, but that he could do so, so successfully, like an evil genius whose plans could not be stopped. If Zhao wasn’t careful, he could miss the birth of his child as easily as seeing Shen slip into his car the next morning, as if nothing happened but an extraordinarily arduous night. From that point on, if Shen wasn’t in sight, he panicked.   
He only left him for a few hours at a time, to make sure Guo and the others were following his instructions. He was less concerned with work and more concerned with getting his place ready. 

He may not be able to convince Shen to return home right away, but if it came to it, the baby was welcomed there. Wanted there. Zhu Hong was in charge of the nursery. Guo was supposed to assist her with anything she needed. Zhao let them assume that he and Shen were adopting. He dropped hints to everyone that an old friend was in legal trouble and needed support with a newborn. He popped in to make sure everything was clean, perfect, and on schedule. He talked to specialists and bribed them with his life-savings. He got advice from Dixingian physicians. He had his mother interview applicants for the position of a live-in nanny. The way Guo’s eyes misted over at the mention of Shen returning with a child, Zhao wanted to offer him the position on the spot, but didn’t think he had the experience or the endurance. 

One thing was for sure. This was not going to be some big tragic fucking secret. His kid was coming and it would be welcomed into the world like everyone else. The only person he had to convince, was Shen. 

There were some nights in his car, when he wondered if Shen would just let him in. Have dinner with him. Let him share a bed. His legs were cramped and his WiFi signal useless. He bought a tent, but every time he went to put it up, his pride took insult to sleeping on the ground when Shen was sitting right in there, shutting him out. He understood that he wasn’t supposed to get attached to the idea that he could be a father. He wasn’t supposed to look at Shen in any way that encouraged hope. But it was too late for that. He was already rolling over in warm, twisted sheets, running his hand underneath his husband’s night shirt. For some reason, those fantasies were too powerful to stop. If it wasn’t for Jiu’s involvement, the idea would’ve been intoxicating. 

Surely, Shen could call a truce on this whole living together-but-separate thing for one night. Zhao dug around in the bags he was living out of, and found his equipment to boost any nearby phone signals. He had to drive back down the road a ways. There, he ordered take-out, bribed extra to have it delivered out of range, waited an hour for it, and drove back up to Shen’s place. 

Arms loaded, he approached the door and reassured himself that this would work. He wasn’t sleeping in a fucking car tonight, let alone a tent. They could act like civilized people for one night. Shen might be a cold blooded Envoy, but not even his tepid heart could refuse his man, arms full of dinner, begging to come inside. They’d eat through the silence. Zhao would make a point of curling up on the sofa, and asking for nothing more but to be allowed to stay there. 

He rehearsed the words he’d leave Shen with, as the other left him for the one bedroom. ‘Don’t do it without me. Something could go wrong. Unexpected. Let me be there when it happens.’

He knew that Shen would argue, ‘You know I can’t. You couldn’t watch something like that and let it happen.’

He’d shush him. ‘No, don’t answer now. You could pass out. You might feel too much pain, no matter what precautions you take. You could train me.’ His own mind laughed at that. ‘I’d either get help or get it out of you if you botch it.’ Like hell I will, he grumbled beneath it all. 

It took a moment to realize he’d slipped into daydreaming and Shen hadn’t answered the door yet. He must’ve knocked four times. He stepped back and took in the windows. They were aglow. Shen’s car sat in front of his in the driveway. There was no loud music, no TV, nothing preventing the knock from being heard. He couldn’t be in the shower. He takes his showers very early or much later. 

Don’t panic. Keep knocking. 

Zhao’s arms were growing tired. That was more from increasing anxiety than exhaustion. The containers weren’t that heavy. It’s just that he had them balanced a certain way. He was practically posing, so that Shen would see the perfect boyfriend, deserving of entrance. And Shen’s hearing was impeccable. Even in the shower, he could tell when someone was knocking. 

“Shen Wei!” He was not above yelling. Especially way out here without any neighbors to get annoyed. “Dinners on me tonight.”

Okay. Another minute, and it wasn’t cute anymore. He kicked the door. It made such a rude and satisfying sound, that he kicked it again. Shen needed to know that he was losing his temper and going to break it down if he didn’t answer.

Half a second later, he set down the food and shoved. It was an old door with new locks. Using his boot, he split the frame and the door buckled from the center, bending around the lock. He had to run to the car for an ax to finish it. The fact that Shen still hadn’t surfaced, made him more certain that he wasn’t over reacting. Something was wrong. A few hacks in strategic places, and he got inside, coughing through a cloud of dust he’d made. 

“Shen!”

The worst scenarios ran through his mind as he ran from room to room. He pictured Shen unconscious, hemorrhaging in some corner. The house was small, with one bedroom. Shen had turned the other into an office. The kitchen held no clues, the living room was tidy, if a bit stale and lacking in modern décor. In the bedroom, everything appeared as orderly as a military barrack. Tight bed corners, barest of dresser and wardrobe surfaces, and not a stray sock or shirt in sight. He paused long enough to try to imagine Shen lying in that full-size bed, knees up, head straining down, trying to give birth. He put himself in the picture, sitting on the side, telling him he could do it. Just the two of them finding their way through this. He thought he’d have to slap himself to pull out of it. Where the hell was Shen?

He ran out of places to look. Now he knew something was wrong because Shen had been home, moving through the house only a few hours ago. His car was still there. If he left, he left on foot, but where would he go? 

Zhao was torn between running around outside yelling for him, and hacking into his computer again. In his indecision, he remembered the basement. In Shen’s tiny kitchen, it could’ve been a narrow pantry, easily overlooked. As he approached it, he saw that the door was ajar. It was the kind of door that swung loosely if it wasn’t locked. He squeezed inside, saw that the lights were on downstairs, and took one steep step at a time. 

“Shen!”

No answer. Beams and insulation cleared from his view. It was a finished basement with surprisingly clean tiles for flooring. They must be new. Metal cabinets stood alongside a washer and dryer. There were two upright refrigerators and a long, flat freezer. Zhao calculated that Shen must’ve had his electric box upgraded to handle those. That wasn’t all he’d done. Sheets covered a newly installed lab table, sterilization machine, and surgical bed. Mirrors connected to folding arms, were attached. Bags of sterilized cloths sat vacuum pressed, behind glass cabinet doors. A long, steel sink waited with trays and slender cutting instruments. 

The basement space lay wide open, with no divisions. Zhao could see clear from one end of the house to the other. There was no sign of Shen, but further towards the back, on the other side of a hot water heater, rose another table. As soon as he saw it, he knew he didn’t want to see it. It was that feeling. That instant energy which needed no words. Something like that should not be there. None of this should be here. 

The thing was definitely a table. Covered. He’d seen enough dead bodies in his lifetime, that there was no mistaking the outline of that sheet. So many things didn’t make sense. He swallowed the bile telling him that this was just one more. First he had to get past the fact that he was looking at a body. Then he had to tell himself that there’s no way it could be Shen. It brought him no relief as he moved closer. It just shouldn’t have been there. As he approached it, he smelled chemicals and decay. 

He braced himself. The sooner he made himself pull back the sheet, the sooner he could get on with finding Shen. What has that idiot done now? He lifted the corner. 

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Still sad though. Red hair from a bottle, aged about thirty-five, a cheek tattoo of a tiny pink heart. She would’ve been attractive if it wasn’t for the gouge above her left eye. The tag on her toe identified her as a university cadaver. Judging from the trauma at her head and chest, she died behind the wheel of a car. He didn’t have to expose her whole body to know that she was about six months pregnant when she died. The swell of the sheet spoke for itself. He touched her gray-yellow arm. Just as he thought. Frozen. Shen must’ve lain her out to thaw, before he could advance in his practice. 

If Zhao hadn’t been so experienced in the field, the sight would’ve put him off. It still made him angry enough to throw all those sterile trays and instruments against the wall. It still didn’t tell him where the hell Shen was. He backed away, twisting to force himself back upstairs. By the time he got to the top, he found himself stumbling and coughing into his hands. Disgust came on the heals of panic. He wanted to take a second to shake it off, but he had to find Shen. 

He left the house, hysterics getting the best of him. He called, ran the perimeter and started bellowing until he was hoarse. Another second without any sign, and he would’ve gotten the SID involved. But the sound of bushes shivering, branches snapping, and Shen’s groan, had him turning in time to see him exit a wall of overgrowth in the back of the property. 

Shen fell to his knees, dropping a leather backpack beside him and pitching forward. Zhao ran to him, his alarm increasing when he saw the blood staining Shen’s robe. 

“No, no, no. What have you done? Tell me!” He hoisted him in his arms, rolling him until he cradled his head against his chest. “What did you do?”

Shen’s skin was very hot. His breath came in short gasps, hyperventilating. “It’s, it’s not what you think.” He tried to twist from Zhao’s arms, but gave in when strength seemed to leave him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Like hell. You’re the one who shouldn’t be here. What happened to you?”

“False. Fals alarm.” It took a moment to get the words out. “I thought… I had all the signs. There was so much pain. I thought it was time. I don’t know how women do this.”

“Labor? Is it happening? It’s, it’s too soon!”

“No. It should be another two months. But the contractions were coming at regular intervals. All day. Last night. I haven’t practiced on a human yet. The university just released a body for me…”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear about that thing.” Zhao clutched him tighter.

“Don’t call her a thing. That mother is helping me.” His words were sluggish, but he seemed to want to talk. He hand moved to Zhao’s arm and he sounded as though he were falling asleep.

“There is no dishonor in leaving one’s body to science.” 

Zhao had to bend close to hear him. “She’s going to help me avoid cutting essential nerves. I was going to practice. You mustn’t be disturbed by it. Don’t let the sight of her hurt your heart. She’s saving me. When I thought the time was near, I hesitated. The drugs make me less effective in my thoughts, so I didn’t take them. I have a cave. I don’t want it to happen in the house. Not while you’re around. I won’t do that to you. Zhao, all you have to do, is ignore an hour or two of my absence. It doesn’t have to touch you as deeply. It’s only horrible because we’re making it so. When you’re not thinking of it, it’s not tormenting you. It’s nothing.” 

He lifted his hand as if he might touch Zhao’s face, but then it dropped. He didn’t seem strong enough, or conscious enough, to complete the act. His eyes were open, but nothing came from his moving lips. 

“What the hell happened?” Zhao tried to feel Shen’s stomach, but found that Shen could move to block him, if he wanted to. 

“No. It’s still there, you don’t have to touch it. I can’t bear to have you touch it or look at it.”

“Is he okay?”

A bitter laugh slipped out of Shen’s mouth. “It’s not a he. Next you’ll be naming it. It’s nothing. A mass. A tumor. I’m strong enough to summon my glaive now, I thought I’d be strong enough to take the pain. I tried to make the incision. I passed out. When I woke up, you were calling me. The contractions have stopped. All the pain is gone, and I’m just tired.”

This admission alone, was all the honest sincerity Zhao needed to hear. His temper abated, and he looked down on Shen’s stained clothes with tenderness in his eyes. Should he hate this man for not letting him dream? For not quietly settling for being an aberration in nature? If their roles were reversed, could he keep himself sane and feel this thing growing inside of him at the same time? No, he could not be hard on Shen. He just had to find a way to protect him from himself. And protect their child. 

“But the cut. You need a doctor.”

“I’ve had worse. You know that. Get me to my room.”

Glad to be asked, glad to have something he could help with, he didn’t let Shen ask him twice. But he scolded, “You can’t just go by your symptoms. I’m pretty sure a doctor has to measure down there. The woman can’t push until the opening’s wide enough.”

“It’s referred to a cervical dilation, and I have no intention of pushing.”

Zhao bit his tongue to keep from arguing with him in his weakened state. He carried him back to the house, placed him on his bed, and achieved a sense of purpose as he dabbed at all the dried blood with a bowl of warm water and a cloth. As he made a fuss, Shen must’ve been so exhausted that he stopped resisting, stopped arguing. At some point, trust kicked in, and he fell asleep for brief periods. Each time he awoke, Zhao was doing something new to him, administering a local anesthetic, which was basic first-aid to someone of his field experience, and dressing the cut, placing towels beneath him as gently as he could to protect the sheets. Shen looked down on his exposed body, too weary to protest, as Zhao quickly dressed him in clean pajamas. He must’ve found everything he needed in Shen’s surgical arsenal. 

For a moment they were back in that bunker, and so dependent on each other for comfort. Just when Zhao thought that Shen’s dark stare was going to reprimand him for undressing him, Shen let his body go slack and said nothing. He turned away and slept. 

It was in that dim stillness, that Zhao reached out and put his hand on Shen’s unguarded stomach. He had no idea that his own stomach was as tightly knotted as it was, until he felt the first nudge beneath his palm. He gasped. Astonishment held his jaw open, but he had to shush himself before waking Shen. For some reason, he always thought he’d be revolted by the whole person-inside-a-person thing. It had never been real to him before, until now. It was always something that other people went through, and he never thought he’d have to. He never thought it would have anything to do with him. 

Shen’s stomach was only slightly raised. Where a fit man would see his abdomen dip a little between his pelvic bones, Shen’s raised above the bone. He’d only gone up two sizes around the waist, but lost weight everywhere else. No wonder, after checking his fridge, Zhao found very little food, only the few vegetables and eggs he grew and raised himself. And he had a feeling that Shen’s diet was designed to take in the minimal nutrition possible. Was he starving their child?

Zhao sat back, not wanting to take his hand away, and knowing he shouldn’t indulge. 

Indulge his ass, how many other opportunities to have a kid would their be? With Shen, of all people. It wasn’t every day that he got to feel his baby growing, becoming. He didn’t want this with anyone else. He wanted this kid, right here and now, with this man. How was he going to pull this off, with Shen so sure it was something evil? When he regained his full strength, Zhao wasn’t going to be able to stop him from doing anything he wanted. 

He whispered to Shen’s sleeping face. “You think you’re saving my life by carrying him. If you kill him, the way you’d kill a thousand murdering strangers, you will have killed me anyway. Now that he’s real… Now that he’s a part of you and me, I can’t pretend he’s not important. He deserves a chance like everyone else. To hell with Jiu. This is ours, not his. Our flesh. Please don’t hurt him,   
Shen.”

Zhao made sure that he hadn’t awakened him, then, because he could, he bent and kissed Shen’s stomach lightly. “You are wanted, little fella. No matter what your dad says, I want you.”

He raised up, satisfied that his behavior was not foolish. His kid had a spirit, and somehow, had the means to know that at least one of them was waiting on him with open arms. When he glanced back up, Shen’s stare met him. Groggy, but comprehending. 

Before Zhao could change the subject to getting food inside him, Shen said, “It’s not human, Zhao.”

Zhao smiled. “Is that supposed to scare me? Technically, it’s mother is not human. So we have a hybrid baby, so what. I’m even more proud.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of. If Jiu can manipulate my body, he can manipulate this thing.”

“You don’t know if his reach is that far. He’s done something so horrible, that you’re ready to strike at anything associated with him. He’s done a fine job of making you feel vulnerable. That’s all. Don’t take it out on our son.”

“You mustn’t call it that. Don’t be weak. Don’t mistake this thing for something that needs you, because it doesn’t. For all we know, this is Jiu’s child. He’s merely used us as conduits.”

“Is that what you really think? That’s why you’re in such a hurry to get rid of it?”

“I’m in a hurry because it doesn’t belong inside of me. Nothing has ever felt so wrong. Don’t ask me to take one minute of pleasure from these months. You have no idea what it’s like, not knowing what’s growing, what’s feeding off of you.”

“Stop it. It’s an innocent baby. My innocent baby, not his.” Zhao scooted closer, taking Shen’s hand. “I hate that you’re going through this. I do. But how do we know that it isn’t a blessing in disguise, and that we’ll get the last laugh? Jiu has underestimated us. Think of it. Not to brag or be gross, but my seed… your power. This kid is going to be amazing.”

“I can’t let you talk like that. It has to die.” As he said it, his eyes looked away, as if even he didn’t see why that had to be the case. 

“Don’t you see, you’re scared of your own kid. You’re just scared that Jiu’s made something really bad wrong with him. That’s a kind of inverted love. You’d rather see him dead than have your child suffer at the hands of that madman. You do have love in your heart, I refuse to believe that you’re all business. You’re just so fucking terrified that he’s tainted or something.”

“Can you guarantee that he isn’t?” Shen’s voice quivered. “Can you guarantee that the same poison which imprisoned us for two months and turned my body into a laboratory experiment, hasn’t touched this child in any way? I could have your child. I’m not too proud and too dignified to do it, if there were no other way. But I will not put myself through that for Jiu. I don’t trust anything he’s touched, and he’s certainly touched everywhere you have touched.”

Zhao was running out of ideas. “Okay, maybe I can’t look at this the way you do. What if we don’t kill him, we just don’t raise him? I mean, I’ll take him from your sight. You won’t even have to look at him. As soon as he’s born, you’ll never see his face and I’ll make sure he’s cared for. I won’t try to force you to bond with him or anything. Would you consider that? There wouldn’t be any blood on our hands then.”

Shen actually appeared to think about it. “No. This is my problem. I can’t dump it in someone else’s lap.”

“It’s a baby, not a problem.”

“You’re too kind for your own good, Zhao. It’s far more merciful to end all hope than it is to string it along. Besides, you would not be willing to give him up. You would either try to raise him alone or see him with his new parents. Either way, you would keep me attached to that anchor. We would all drown in inevitable sorrow.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve tried and convicted him before he’s taken his first breath. That’s not who you are, Shen Wei.”

“I feel his energy. It’s dark.”

“It’s Dixingren.”

“It’s Jiu’s influence.”

Zhao sat back and considered him. “Shen, I may have taken advantage of your body that night. But Jiu has raped your mind. Don’t kill our son. I can’t let you. From here on out, you’re not leaving my sight. When he comes, I’m going to be right there to get you the help you need. I can be useful. I can hold the measuring tape up to the opening or whatever. You’re not going to be able to measure your cervix, if that’s what it’s called.”

He tried to have a laugh, for what it was worth amid all this dire talk. Shen’s expression only hardened. 

“I told you, I’m going to cut him out before it’s time to push.”

“And risk taking him out too soon? You said that I would die if the baby isn’t carried to term. How do you know Jiu’s curse won’t interpret this as cheating and kill me anyway? Like, that’s part of it. It’s not enough to torture you with months of pregnancy, you actually have to give birth. Have you thought about that?”

Shen’s glare of death confirmed that that’s all he’d been thinking of for the past seven months. “All it has to do, is breathe on its own. It will be considered born, regardless of how it gets here.”

“How do you know that? Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like Jiu. Too lenient. He’s a bastard who wants everything owed to him. You’re telling me, he’s just gonna let you take the easy way out, just like that?”

Shen turned away, averting his eyes. He rubbed his face and suddenly appeared a decade older and sadder in that moment. He reminded Zhao of the first time he recognized the look of helplessness on his father’s face. Children are often unprepared to see the most powerful people in their lives at a loss of what to do, and that’s how Shen looked. Until he took a deep breath and reigned it all in. In the next second, his mild-mannered professor sat there, skin as smooth as a child’s, with an oblivious innocence to match. 

“We’ll just have to see. If I go that far to keep you alive, and fail, then there is nothing either of us can do.”

Zhao blinked. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Now who’s making jokes? He reached out and took Shen’s face in both hands. He couldn’t resist. Bringing his head close, he waited until they were an inch apart. “Shen Wei, that is a fucking cop-out!”

Shen jerked out of his grip, scowling. 

“As careful as you are, you’re gonna practice doing everything right, with your books and your cadaver, then wait till the last minute, and do the one thing wrong that will sabotage your entire effort. You are a martyr! You’re going to keep this kid alive, but you won’t do the deed. You’ll cheat. You’ll risk my life, yours, and the kid’s. And your saving grace will be that when we’re both dead, you’ll run that knife over your own throat. I know you, Shen. If Jiu takes my life, by taking our child… if things come to that end, then you will make sure it is such a bloody end. You would rather spill the blood of your whole family than bow to the demand to give birth like a slave. You’ve a Ghost nature, you live for eons. I’m your only link to Human tragedy, and you can’t feel it the way I can. I’m telling you, this might be your way of rebelling against Jiu’s power, but you two are like giants stepping on tiny little people while you fight. It’s just a day to you, a minor argument, where he momentarily has the upper hand. To me, it’s my whole life. I won’t get to have another child with you in any lifetime, as far as I know. So what if I’ve been Kunlun. I’m not him now. If I were, I’d chain you up and sit in front of your tied open legs until my son arrived, safe and sound. You reckless, beautiful warrior, you. If you’re going to give me a child, don’t make some big gesture of sacrificing your body and then saying, ‘Ooh, that was close. Too bad. Now I will die with you, to prove my love.’ Screw that. If you’re going to go through all this trouble, succeed in giving me a healthy son, or daughter, or anything, no matter what Jiu’s involvement. That was my seed, I planted. Not his. Make something wonderful out of it. Don’t settle for this agony. You’re better than that.”

Shen’s nostrils flared, but Zhao knew that it wasn’t anger causing that. It was emotion. It was an effort to hold tightly onto control. To stop tears from showing. Reddened blood vessels gave him away. 

“See,” he said. “Brother Zhao is not so stupid. Now that I see through you, your murder-suicide exit won’t work. My hubby is so dramatic. It took an act of God to get that kid in you, I guess it’s going to take an act of God to get him out.”

He laughed, but Shen did not join him. “You don’t know what you’re asking me. It should be enough that I’m keeping you alive.”

This time, when Zhao touched Shen’s cheek, he meant it. “If this little one dies, then a part of me will die too. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

“How could he matter so much to you, in so little time?”

“Because he matters. I’m human. My offspring matters to me. The mere idea of him, that he’s real right now, gives me so much life! It makes me think that nothing else matters, except keeping the both of you safe. I realize it’s your job to snuff out corruption, and you take it very seriously, but you’re good at what you do because of your species. You’re not human, yet you’re probably carrying a human child. At least give him a chance to prove you wrong. None of us are living purely good lives, Shen. Don’t hurt him out of your fear of Jiu’s corruption. Give him a chance.”

Shen appeared to sink between his shoulders. “The longer we wait, the harder it will be to do.”

“He’s here. He’s earned his place in this world. He hasn’t done anything wrong, we don’t get to deny him his birthright.”

“You say that now. I have visions that say we shouldn’t let this seed sprout. It will grow roots too numerous to detach.”

“And how much of those visions, are the makings of a man who fears the day this thing will exit from his body? You’d rather control the incision, than wait on what is beyond your control. You’ve lived in perfect power for way too long, always knowing what to do, never really threatened by anything. Now you’re facing a truly unknown for you. Nothing is more evil than something that makes you feel helpless. Don’t rush to some god-awful end just to avoid that fear. Let me be there with you. Let’s go through it together.”

At last, Shen didn’t seem to have an argument strong enough to express it. 

“Let him live.”

When he made no reply, Zhao lifted himself to Shen’s mouth and began placing light, begging kisses around his lips. 

It delighted him that he got away with it. Shen not only didn’t protest, he seemed to accept the attention like a student on his best behavior. Maybe this child’s humanity was influencing him after all. He pressed his luck and let his kisses grow longer, slower. When Shen’s face burned with flickering interest, he leaned in and gently, wordlessly, asked permission to enter his mouth. Shen let him. 

He held still, letting Zhao take as much as he wanted. Just like a foreign species who didn’t yet know how to make love as a human. Zhao was never put off by this, always turned on. Now that new possibilities existed for them, he was so going to enjoy teaching Shen what he liked in the bedroom.   
He rode his own high until they had to break it off or commit to something more. He broke it off. 

Shen’s lips were swollen and chaffed. Nice handiwork, he patted himself on the back. But Shen still wouldn’t look at him directly. 

“Promise me, Shen.”

“I want to give you such a promise. I want to give you a son. But it may not be possible.”

“Bullshit. Anything’s possible. Just a few minutes ago, you were calling it an ‘it’. I’ve got you calling it a ‘he.’ My powers of persuasion are unrivaled, my friend. Just say, ‘I promise to give him a chance. To let me be there, to let him live. That’s all you have to say, because I know that you can’t go back on your promises. You just can’t. It’s a binding contract, to someone as honor-driven as yourself. You wouldn’t even harm a puny human. Say it with me. It’s easy.”

He captured Shen’s face to make sure he looked him in the eyes. “I promise,” he encouraged. “Just like that.”

Shen’s mouth held firm. Until Zhao kissed it open again and reminded him why they were making promises to each other in the first place. He pulled away, leaving a string of saliva snapping between them. He’d made sure that the kiss was especially wet and messy, so that he could see himself glistening on Shen’s lips. “I promise,” he insisted. 

Shen nodded. Defeated. “I promise.” His voice was barely a whisper, but Zhao heard it well enough.   
He hugged him to him. “I’ll take care of you both. I’ll do my best to make this right, Shen.”

It seemed like the ending of a long argument. If words were binding contracts, then Zhao got what he wanted. But as Shen’s body remained tense against him, he knew, they both knew, that as much as Shen wanted to give him everything he was asking for, he was lying. The bravest person Zhao knew, was afraid of what one minute in the shoes of a human mother would do to him, and would not risk feeling so much uncertainty, for something forced upon him. 

He had two months to find a way to get Shen past his fears. He hoped that was enough time. 

________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hi guys, I don't mean to string you along. Believe me, it would be better if I could just end this right now. It was only supposed to be a "quickie," but I had to invest my full energy. These two deserve that. I already know the ending, but they want to say more before it's completely done. Since this may be my only tribute to Guardian, I'll let them have it their way for now. I hope that, as harsh as this story is, you all see the love that's there also. :-)


	6. Rebellion

  
Zhao got busy. With one eye on Shen, he upgraded to a satellite interface and conducted business by phone. He got his father involved and begged for SID resources in both medical and emergency capacities. When his father asked too many questions, he pleaded, “C’mon Dad. These are precautionary measures. I never ask you for anything. You can push the paper, fudge the budget. One of the city’s greatest assets, our alliance with Dixingren, is about to be in a lot of trouble. Can’t you trust me? I need helicopters in place. Rescue workers. Emergency transit. Airlift capabilities. If I could tell you everything, I would. But I can’t blow my partner’s cover. You know that. We’re out in the middle of no where. Hell, we may not even use it, but I need to know that it’ll be waiting and ready.”

He stood inside Shen’s living room and spoke as he watched him messing about in the garden. He didn’t trust these kinds of conversations to take place when Shen was in the house. 

Zhao Xinci did not sound moved. He was a former SID Chief and had long since given up his position to serve on Haixing’s Criminal Council. He continued to advise when called upon, but left day to day administration to appointed staff. It was a cushy job, after forty years of putting his life on the line. But whenever the city was in real trouble, his was usually the first phone to ring and he often had the hardest decisions to make. 

“You’re supposed to be taking time off. Is this an official case?”

“Look, Dad. All I can tell you is, I’m not supposed to be working this case. It’s not a knew one. It’s personal. I’m on to something, and the only way I can get what I need is to let everyone think I’m out of the picture, just trying to take care of Shen. But major risks are involved and in another few weeks, maybe sooner, we’ll need emergency teams standing by, the fastest transportation. Doctors. I’m talking a chain reaction response to life-threatening injuries.”

“Why are you thinking of such things now? You barely survive eighty percent of your cases, as it is. And why aren’t you preparing for the adoption? Your mother says that you and Shen may have to take custody of your friend’s child. I must say, it’s not an ideal way to become a grandparent, but if it’ll make you more responsible, I’ll take it. This is no way for new parents to behave on the eave of such an event.”

“Dad. Focus. I might be going into caves. Underground. I want tracking capabilities. I want you to be able to find me and get to me, anywhere in the countryside. I can’t give you all the details. I’m researching specific doctors, leaders in their fields. I have no way of paying them. I want to use the City Chamber to vouch for me. I need professional letters of service.”

Xinci sighed. “I’m only a humble Director, Zhao. I can’t snap my fingers and command that kind of cooperation without giving reasons why.”

“Yeah, but your friends can. You play golf with the Governor every Saturday. Tell him what you need. He’ll release all the resources he can for you. They love you downtown, they don’t know how the hell I’m your offspring.”

“I don’t know how the hell you’re my offspring. I can’t simply ask monumental favors of my colleagues. I will owe them. Now you either tell me what it’s all for, or you’ll just have to rely on the common sense to stay out of trouble and take care of your family like a real man.”

“Dad… ”

“It isn’t like you to put anything before Shen. What’s got you chasing criminals down rabbit holes? Especially after that last situation. You should learn your lesson and pick battles more carefully. I can’t line everything up based on the pitiful details you’re giving me.”

“It’s Shen. Okay?”

There was a moment of silence. 

“Is he okay?”

“No, but I can’t betray him by telling you what’s wrong. All I can do is prepare help for us. I don’t even know if we’re going to need it. We’re trying to keep everything a secret. His health depends on it. This is just not a normal case and I can’t tell you everything.”

“I don’t know, Zhao.” Xinci went quiet. “What have you gotten yourselves into this time?”

Before the call was over, Zhao heard his father’s tone change to something less judgmental and more concerned. But he didn’t promise anything. “I’ll let you know what I come up with. The dates you gave me are rather a wide range. If those resources are needed elsewhere in the province, there’s nothing I can do.”

“I get it, I know. I just want to be able to feel that help will come when we need it.”

“What kind of trouble are you in, son? Just tell me.”

At that moment, Zhao wanted to tell him everything. About Shen, about Jiu, the whole bit, but he swallowed and turned his back on temptation. 

“I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”

He hurried and said good-bye, rushing the words, ‘Iloveyou,’ to compensate for any rudeness on his part. 

In the following weeks, he and Shen played a game of strategy with each other. Instead of going back to his place in the city, Zhao simply didn’t leave the house. He had his employees pack and bring his clothes. In a counter move, instead of acknowledging that Zhao had moved in, unannounced and unwelcomed, Shen ate meals that Zhao prepared for him in absolute silence. He sat across from him exuding an icy self-imposed exile.

Zhao ate heartily, smiled and cracked awful jokes. “See? We could be farmers. We’re actually living off the land. I could get used to this.”

Across from him, Shen took two bites, pushed his plate away and announced that he would retire for the evening. 

“Awww, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” Zhao grabbed his hand as he stood. “This is a great arrangement. I cook, I vacuum, I can keep you in clean laundry for all of your days. All I ask, is a movie on the sofa. That’s not so bad, is it?”

Shen gently withdrew his hand and retreated into his office. 

When midnight rolled around and he hadn’t exited or made any attempt to go to bed, Zhao peeked in on him. In the office, a folding cot had been let out behind his desk. The sight of Shen, sleeping uncomfortably folded on the rickety thing, infuriated him. Zhao roused him. 

“Shen, don’t be stubborn. Take the bed.”

“I’m fine. You take it.”

“I don’t want my kid on this floor. You take it.”

“But I’m comfortable right here. If you insist on staying here, the bed is yours.”

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t want the bed. The sofa is fine.”

“I don’t want the bed, either.”

Zhao took a deep breath. “That makes no sense. It’s your bed.”

Shen looked at him. “And this is my house, yet you refuse to leave. I have no way of knowing where your sense of entitlement begins and ends. I’m safest in my own space. Here, on the floor.”

Oh, okay. Here it is. “Damn it, Shen! You know why I’m here. Get up off this floor and go to bed like a normal person.”

“But I’m not normal, and I can’t be expected to act like I am. I can’t let you deceive yourself into thinking that this arrangement is okay, because it isn’t. I came here to find my balance, after my existence has been turned upside down. You’ve followed and won’t give me a moment’s peace. I won’t fight you. I won’t lift a finger against you. But I won’t let you think you’re in control of everything around here.”

“I’m only doing this because I care about you.”

“I’m not a fragile woman who needs your constant concern. You say you care for me, but you don’t seem to realize that I keep a room’s distance between us at all times. You think I’ll get comfortable with this. You think I’ll go to that bed. Not as long as you’re under this roof. The last time I shared a bed with you, I haven’t been the same since.”

Zhao winced. “Are you punishing me for moving in, or for causing this?”

“Both.”

He nodded, taking it on the chin. “Okay. I suppose there are worse penalties. I’m a man, I can take it.”

“Then take it and leave.” Shen put his back to him. When he heard Zhao leave, he thought he’d won. But the other returned within seconds, bringing covers from the bed and spreading them out on the floor beside him. 

“You can reject my cooking, ignore my conversation, and deny me the privilege of sharing a bed with you. But you can’t make me stop needing to know that you’re okay. And the only way I can do that, is being by your side.”

In a last effort at chivalry, he left his pants on and climbed into the blankets beside Shen. He snuggled as close to the cot as he could and wished him,“Pleasant dreams.”

Sometime before sunrise, he awoke alone in the room. He wandered the house until he found Shen sleeping in his own bed. 

Okay, so he wants to play it like that for the next two months. Spiteful bastard. 

Zhao couldn’t get too upset. At least they were keeping it civil, when two such as them could easily destroy the countryside with their tempers. It was a good thing that Shen wasn’t at his full strength as Envoy yet. Maybe that’s why he was being so fucking passive-aggressive. The Black Robe Envoy didn’t have a passive bone in his body. Oh no, Mr. Shen Wei was obviously biding his time, making Zhao think that his cooperation came reluctantly, but it came. Zhao didn’t trust it at all. His hubby was angry with him and was showing signs of being as unpredictable and vengeful as a wife remembering a twenty-year old grudge. It might be waking up with a knife in his chest or a skillet to the back of the head. In any case, he knew when someone wanted to do him bodily harm, whether he ever got the opportunity to sleep in the same bed with him ever again. He had to be careful.

He settled in for an uncomfortable stay with his husband and wondered if all soon-to-be parents experienced this sour note right before the birth of their first child. 

He could only joke for so long. As the days neared their inevitable approach, his focus on Shen began to narrow to exclusion. He read all the medical books that Shen kept around, performed virtual cesareans in the form of digital “games” online, watched actual birthing footage, studied the most common instruments and their usage, and consulted professionals late at night through video chats. 

He looked for changes in Shen’s behavior. He noted the weight loss, the night sweats, the ill temperament and other subtleties that hinted Shen wasn’t feeling well. Pleas to trust a doctor with their secret, went ignored. There were mornings when Shen did not get up. Zhao had watched him writhe from back pain all night long. So when the morning came and it seemed he finally found a comfortable position, he let him sleep. Then Shen awoke in a foul mood around noon, and seemed to need to prove his self-worth by finding work to do outdoors. Instead of grabbing his garden tools, he manifested his glaive and began doing maneuvers to maintain his agility, balance, and speed. 

Zhao noticed that he had little patience and stopped being careful with his hair and clothing. His long locks, once drawn into a tight bun of hair that gracefully fell behind his neck, became an unruly whip of disheveled strands. He tied it back, but did it with such dismissive haste that morning, that it was a luxurious mess which spoke volumes to Zhao about his distraction. 

_If he knew how beautiful he looks_ , Zhao thought, _he wouldn’t come out of the house looking like that._

It took days for him to realize that Shen’s entire demeanor had slipped because he was hiding his pain. 

While he slept, he couldn’t hide it. But during the day, a permanent hardness froze the soft contours of his face, and he would not let Zhao look him in the eye.

That day, Zhao didn’t like the sight of him swinging the weapon. His timing was off and he moved like a distracted trainee under the noonday sun, and not the martial arts master that he was. It was outright rebellion and it might hurt their child. He set down his tea and rushed outside to try to take the glaive from him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He didn’t care about raising his voice. 

Shen stood atop an obstacle course of cut poles, of varying heights. It was a standard practicing field, built shortly after putting up the hen house. He leapt from one to the other, swinging his weapon in a mock ambush. “I’ve grown weak and slow. I must not lose my ability to act swiftly and competently.”

“You’re pregnant!”

His head shot up. He looked at Zhao with unforgiving hatred for the accuracy of the name calling. For a second, he was too angry to speak and Zhao fired off another cruel observation. 

“You haven’t picked that thing up in months. You get this close to term and all of a sudden you have to prove your manhood? You’re gonna hurt our kid. You promised me, Shen Wei! Hand me that thing before I come after it.”

Shen sneered. “Just like a domineering husband. I pity the females of your race, who live under your thumb. Just because I’m in this state,” he was careful to avoid the P-word, “does not mean I’m sick or bedridden. I feel most alive when I’m beheading someone. I thirst for enemies who dare to cross me. I am well placed for my purpose. Don’t you ever talk to me as if I’m anything less than The Black Robe Envoy.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m thinking about the baby.”

“Shut your foul mouth, Zhao Yunlan! Don’t you dare throw that word in my face. I never agreed to your human sentiments. I only agreed to carry this thing as long as it doesn’t get in my way. I’ve been still for too long. I’ve been complacent for too long. I need to move, to feel my strength. This thing pushes, takes, demands of my body, demands rest from me. It’s sucking the marrow from my bones. It has me acting more and more human. Well I’m taking my body back. If it can’t survive under those conditions, then you’re a dead man. And as long as you try to use your child to control me, that might just be the best thing after all.”

Zhao looked at him. “You don’t mean that.”

He knew that pregnant people said crazy things because of hormones and pain. Is that the reason for this sudden resistance to everything they claimed to be working for?

“Don’t I?”

To prove his point, Shen vaulted to the highest pole, leaping like a deer. He landed long enough to push himself off with his foot and bend his body in a backward arch that had him sailing through the air, feet over head and landing from a backward somersault, right in front of Zhao. His feet hit the ground. He recovered his balance, smiling. 

Zhao shook his head. He could not put words to his anger and disgust. He was about to spit venom, ready to say something he could not take back, “You would risk killing our baby for the chance to show off. You motherfucking prick!” But the look on Shen’s face stopped him. 

That smile quickly disappeared, replaced by bewilderment. Shen lurched forward and gripped his stomach. His eyes bulged in confusion. He grunted. He’d already broken a sweat from exertion, but that progressed to trembling redness as his face heated from strain. Zhao recognized that look. It was the look of someone trying to hold back a great deal of pain. 

He knew he was right when Shen couldn’t answer him, couldn’t stand, and stiffly sank to the ground. 

“What did you do?” He stood over him. 

Shen appeared to be concentrating on breathing, on managing whatever was going on in his gut. His mouth opened onto formless words. His teeth bared as he endured a round of anguish that had tears spilling down his cheeks. 

Zhao panicked. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. Don’t worry!” He bent, struggling to get Shen into his arms. The other did not resist him. They were sixty meters from the house and Zhao reassured him with each step. “I know who to call. I’m right here. I have a lovely Indian doctor who specializes in prenatal care. She said I could call her anytime.”

Zhao was not a muscular man and Shen was a little taller. The weight distribution made getting to the house a series of leg-shaking steps, during which he tried to be careful not to jar the man in his arms. He rushed awkwardly over the lawn, kicking the newly replaced door with his boot. In another minute, he had Shen on the sofa, not risking anymore steps to the bed. He ran to grab extra pillows while searching for his phone at the same time. “Dad can get her here in twenty minutes. I just have to call…”

Shen’s hand lifted, but it took another few seconds for his voice to follow. “Don’t. Please, don’t.” Zhao heard struggle in his voice. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s going away.”

He meant the pain, and Zhao came around to the sofa to stare deep into his face. He didn’t know if he could trust Shen now. His fingers shook as he held his phone. 

Shen caught his breath. “I’m sorry. That was so stupid of me. I don’t know why I did that. Please don’t call. It isn’t necessary. I just… I behaved badly, and my body let me know my limitations. I’m not The Black Robe Envoy. Not right now. Not yet.”

“Did you hurt the baby, though? We need someone who can take a look.”  
At that moment, their eyes locked. They both seemed to think the same thing. Zhao didn’t wait for permission before going after the trousers under Shen’s robe. He had them peeled down, ignoring Shen’s winces, before the other could stop him.

Shen suffered the exposure and waited for the verdict. Zhao’s eyes were large. “Blood.”

Shen shook his head. 

“You’ve torn something. We need help.” Zhao started to dial. Shen slapped the phone out of his hands. 

“No!”

“Don’t start. We need help and you’re not going to fight me on this.”

“I admit that what I did was stupid. But you’re overreacting. It’s only a little blood. It’s called spotting, and it’s been happening off and on for weeks. That hurt just now, but neither me or the child is in danger. If you please just let me rest a minute, you’ll see that nothing’s wrong. I just tried something I shouldn’t have. Please, Zhao.”

“Our kid could be dying.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Look at me.” Shen sat up and even stood to fix his trousers. “The pain is gone, just like that. I can’t tell you how often I twist or move a certain way and this kid lets me know he doesn’t like it.”

That confession only made Zhao feel cheated out of getting to know this part of the process, of getting to know his son, all because Shen was stubborn. “I don’t want you on your feet.”

“I have to clean myself up. Give me five minutes.”

“No. Bed. Now.” Zhao took his arm and wrapped it around his neck. He then lifted Shen one leg at a time. “You’re going to fucking lay there and let me clean you up. I’m breaking out the monitor. We have equipment we’re not using.”

“You don’t know how to read it.” 

“I know what two healthy heartbeats should look like.” 

“You only know human heartbeats.” 

“Shut up. It’s this or I’m calling in an airlift to the nearest hospital.”

Shen didn’t say another word. 

An hour later, Zhao was satisfied that the heart monitor was connected properly, according to online videos at his disposal. He sent readings to his Indian friend, who confirmed that mother and child had normal cardiac rhythms, as far as she could tell. He had explained their remote location to her and she smiled prettily on her screen. “You say your wife took a nasty fall? I’d be happy to take a look at her data.” She talked him through downloading the information and uploading it to her Dubai account. 

“Mind if I have a look and a chat with her? The visual will help me assess more accurately, though I can’t stand in as her physician. I can tell you if I think she should get to a hospital right away.”

Blushing, Zhao explained that he was having the damnedest time getting his wife on camera, let alone exposing her body to a lens. Dr. Paori appeared confused until he said, “She’s not comfortable with the whole legs-open-screen-right-there-thing. I told her to think of the baby and she just screams at me and bursts into tears. I don’t want to upset her anymore than she is.”

“I understand. First time mothers can be too modest for their own good. I’m going to give you some simple tests to perform, checking her color, oxygen, and reflexes. Just keep an eye on her and let me know if anything changes.” 

He thanked her, closed his laptop, and spent the next twenty-four hours by Shen’s bed. 


	7. Acceptance

Morning came. Zhao had made a point to tie a string from Shen’s wrist to his own, to alert him if the other tried to get up without him during the night. At dawn, he insisted on inspecting the “bandage” before allowing Shen to go to the bathroom by himself. What they were calling bandages, were really female hygiene products that neither could mention by name. It took a hell of an argument to convince Shen to use them in the first place. And by the time they were done yelling at each other, they were too tired to squabble over the name or their real purpose. 

The bandages were spotless, but Zhao ordered Shen to return to bed and take his meals there. “We can’t be too careful.”

After yesterday’s stunt backfired, he didn’t appear to want to argue with Zhao. In fact, he seemed quiet and resigned to his predicament. Oddly resigned. 

Shen was cooperative all morning. So much so that Zhao started to relax. He served him breakfast, made a few phone calls, and came back to lay next to him. When he started throwing around baby names, he saw that Shen’s eyes were closed. He was sitting, reclined against pillows, and taking deep, measured breaths. 

“Are you okay?”

His response appeared delayed as he kept his eyes closed. “My back hurts.”

“I read that’s normal. It’s getting close, huh? What do you think, another week? I don’t think we’ll make our due date at this rate.”

“Do you have something for the pain? I didn’t rest well.”

Zhao looked at him. It was such an odd request, coming from Shen. They knew that human medicines had become increasingly effective on him, since carrying the child, but Zhao also knew that he hadn’t wanted them before.   
“You said you didn’t want to be groggy when the time came. They’re strong. They’ll probably make you sleep.”

“That’s what I want for now. I didn’t want to be medicated, knowing what I had planned. But I think that he will be born this week, and I need to rest as much as possible. He’s coming, and I can’t fight it.”

Zhao sat up. “Shen, will you let me bring a doctor here? It’ll still be private. I’ve already felt around for someone who can handle unusual patients. We just need someone here who knows what they’re doing. It would make me feel so much better.”

Without opening his eyes, Shen consented. “That’s fine. But don’t bring them in for two days. I need to mentally prepare to have a stranger examining me. It’s almost unbearable.”

“I understand.”

“You don’t. But you can’t help it. Just give me the medicine and let me rest. Disturb me as little as possible for the next forty-eight hours. Don’t feed me, don’t try to rouse me. If I need you, I’ll call you. I’m going to summon as much of my strength as possible to get through this process. I need to be left alone.”

Being alone, leaving Shen alone, was the last thing Zhao wanted right then. But if Shen could grant him this warning that their son was coming, he could show some sensitivity. “Of course. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re comfortable.” He jumped up. “You can’t take the meds on an empty stomach. Let’s get one good meal into you before this kid comes. Then we’ll have a real doctor here, and they’ll tell us what to do. I promise, I’ll leave you alone. Figuratively. I’ll be in the next room. I’ll peep in on you, but I won’t wake you.” 

Nervous anxiety allowed Zhao’s words to sputter out. He didn’t know what to say. His husband was actually going to accept help and everything was going to be okay. His child wouldn’t be born in a cave with bats, but in a bright house, surrounded by lots of love and care. The idea excited him and terrified him all at once. He felt giddy. 

In the kitchen, he whipped up Shen’s favorite sandwich, with a side of hot noodles. Breakfast had mainly consisted of toast, yogurt, and an egg. Shen’s own instructions. Now Zhao prepared a beast of a sandwich, just because it was quick and he knew that Shen loved hot sandwiches on toasted bread. Food would probably be avoided the closer they got to labor, so he compensated with extra tomato, seasoned sweet peppers, and a side of vegetable soup. If he was going to sleep to catch up on rest, then his body wouldn’t lack for fuel. That little guy inside there needed the energy too. This was going to be a huge week. 

He stopped what he was doing and took a moment to pray, to thank the ancestors and Gods for guiding him to this moment, as he stood on the precipice of seeing his child born. He wasn’t one to make a fuss, especially about religious things, but he truly felt blessed in that moment. Ten years ago, he had no idea he’d even be alive to contemplate having a husband or a child. Now he had both. Life was good. Scary sometimes. But good. 

He was so happy, so relieved that Shen was being reasonable, that he whistled lightheartedly as he served him. “You just eat as much of this as you can, and leave everything to me.”

Shen still seemed extremely reluctant to open his eyes. Instead of replying, his chest heaved a great sigh, and Zhao took this as acceptance. He did notice that Shen’s skin looked a little waxy and gray. 

“Let me just run through Dr. Paori’s checklist of vital signs, and I’ll leave you alone. I want to be able to show the doctor a record.”

Shen’s mouth went slack as he waited out having his blood pressure taken and his heart-rate monitored. He answered questions dully, and Zhao made the excuse that it was the medication kicking in. When he could do no more, he kissed his forehead and gushed out loud at the thought that by the weekend, they’d be holding their kid. Shen lay unresponsive, drifting in a chemical fog. Only when Zhao backed out of the door, promising to be right there if he needed anything before shutting it, did he open his eyes. 

They were clear and dark. He shook his sleeve and two green pills tumbled out. He hurried out of bed and disposed of them in the same hiding place he’d disposed of the bandages that he’d soaked through during the previous night. It hadn’t been easy, unknotting the string which tied him to Zhao, so he cut it, cleaned up, and repeated the steps three times before timing Zhao’s inspection exactly right to pass it. Each time he reattached the string, he counted himself lucky for not having to change the sheets. Turns out, the bandages with the plastic, waterproof backing, was actually practical for bed. Women must have learned to deal with this in ways that men could not comprehend. He didn’t mind wearing the bandages so much now. They were helpful, but all that would end tonight. He was sure of it. So sure in fact, that he felt it was nothing more than sheer willpower keeping the baby inside of him. 

The instinct to push had been overwhelming a few hours ago. It subsided, but kept coming back. 

He’d been in so much pain since waking, he thought Zhao would surely see through his act. The least he could do, was base his lie on the truth. The baby would be here soon. Sooner than you think. The clock by the bed allowed him to deduce that he’d been in labor for twelve hours. He could barely hide it anymore. If he didn’t get to the cave quick, he’d lose his opportunity. His words to Zhao had all been a ruse to buy him more time. All he needed was a head start. Zhao didn’t know where the cave was. And if he tried to follow him, he’d mislead him. Shen had chosen his hidden spot well. All the instruments were there, wrapped up and waiting. 

***

Zhao looked at the third draft of his email to his parents, and hit delete. It didn’t feel right. This was a momentous time in his life, in Shen’s, and he wanted to mark it by coming clean with his family. He wanted to tell them everything. He wanted them to know that this child was their blood. As crazy as his life was, as clownish and immature a legacy he had created with his reputation, this kid was his way of showing them that he was trying to do something right. He did take family seriously. He wanted to honor them, but they had to understand so much about Shen. They had to understand that he was a victim, and this wasn’t easy for him. How to give them the gift of a grandchild, without telling them what made it all possible? Was it fair to any of them, to keep his mouth shut?

He made two more attempts at wording, then rejected them, before closing the lid and deciding that he needed a beer. There’s a way to tell anyone anything, he assured himself. He just had to wait for the right words to come. 

On his way to the kitchen, he cracked open Shen’s door, peered into the shadows of the bedroom and took comfort in seeing him finally resting. 

Good. That means I’m doing my job. 

He closed the door. He went and stood in front of the fridge, scratching his ass as he decided on one of three beer choices. He almost dismissed the thud as he opened it. It was faint, like something outside. He took a sip, letting that cold burn fill the back of his throat. Then he heard it again. Like something hitting the house softly. He swallowed a mouthful. His ballooning cheeks went down. Then he remembered, there was nothing outside that could make that noise. No animals, no wind, no neighbors banging around. He headed for the bedroom.

With each step, he told himself it was nothing. Random sounds, the house settling. Something was trying to get to the chickens, he’d have to go out and have a look. Just for his peace of mind, he opened Shen’s door again. This time the covers looked different. Flatter. He entered, catching his heart in his throat and noticing the water running in the bathroom at the same time. 

He’s only in the bathroom. Not a big deal. Only, it was. He knocked and rattled the handle. “Shen, I told you I’d help you to the bathroom. I don’t want you up with that medicine in your system.”

He tried to calm his temper before it started. “I told you to call me.” 

It sounded like Shen was taking a shower. “You could fall.” He could just see the baby shifting, getting ready to be born, and Shen losing his balance or something. The sound of rushing spray gave him pause to think. Why did Shen suddenly want a shower? 

He went to the bed and lifted the covers. Sure enough. Blood. “Goddammit, Shen!” 

He beat on the door. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m coming in.” He tried not to sound too harsh, but Shen was choosing to be careless. If he knew he was bleeding, Zhao should’ve been the first one he called. Not get out of bed and try to hide it. 

When Shen wouldn’t answer, Zhao braced himself and rammed the door. He fell into a steam-filled bathroom and blinked at the empty shower. His brain calculated all the things that were wrong with this picture. The one thing that was hugely wrong. Shen was no where in the room. The shower was a deliberate decoy. He turned it off and began rummaging around for clues. 

He tried to control his breathing, to stop his hands from shaking. He ran through the house, knowing it was useless, but he had to tell himself he looked. He went back to the bedroom. The only way out was a window, but that thing looked like it hadn’t been opened in decades. And if Shen could manifest his glaive, then did he really need a physical opening in order to go anywhere he wanted? 

Zhao tried the window. It stuck, but opened. That’s when he saw the hammer laying by the pane. He switched on a lamp. Its handle was smeared. The same smear left prints on the window. Beyond the glass, into the gloam of approaching night, he thought he saw a figure stumble into the overgrowth of the backyard. In seconds, he contorted to fit through and ran after Shen. 

***

With each step Shen took, it got harder to breathe. He couldn’t run and suppress his pain at the same time. Each muscular contraction had him struggling to stay upright. They lasted a minute, releasing his movement for two more. For every sprint he gained, he lost precious time getting as much distance between himself and Zhao as possible. He heard his name called. He felt something globular slip from his body, followed by a wash of fluid that drenched his clothes. It wasn’t blood, from what he could tell of it. It wasn’t yet dark. He still had time to lose Zhao in the natural cave system. It was why he bought the property in the first place. If he could slip inside, he could disappear long enough to make sure no one interfered. 

The baby was coming, and try as he might, all of his willpower wasn’t stopping it. He knew his actions were desperate and less than sane, but if Zhao hadn’t been chasing him, he could’ve handle this calmly and privately. No, he could not give this thing of Jiu’s a chance. It was all very seductive, to think that he could give Zhao a child, but that wasn’t reality. They couldn’t just ignore the poison that made it possible. This was his mercy to Zhao. If he did it swiftly, then the heartbreak could come and go, and not linger for years, spreading bitterness throughout their lives. It had to die. 

The landscape took Shen upward. He clutched anything he could get his hands on, to pull himself along reeds and moss covered monolithic stone. He was only sorry that Zhao, down below, could still see him. The entrance to the system was exposed to him. It was a vertical drop into a pit. Shen grimaced and held his breath as he let himself go. The fall was only six feet, but that was enough to keep him on the ground, gasping and pouring sweat as he suppressed the agony of his body. He lay there in the dark, cursing his immobility, frozen for way too long. When movement returned to him, he drug himself through one of the openings he remembered. He listened for water. With any luck, when Zhao entered, he wouldn’t know which path to take. He wouldn’t have lighting. He’d be too confused to follow. 

His own eyes didn’t need much light as they adjusted. He felt along his path. He’d left holes in the dirt walls, in case he needed to feel his way. Zhao wouldn’t know about those. When he got far enough along, he might risk a torch. He’d hidden a supply of them, in case he had to stay down here for a while. His breathing sounded as loud as the rapids ahead. Rushing water echoed off cavern walls. He was trying to feel his way to the underground river. His feet slipped in his shoes, as if the insides were slick. Then he realized that where the wetness had left his clothes clingy and cold against him, a sudden warmth followed in its path. Too warm. Blood poured out of him, making a gooey paste as his thighs clamped together to stop it. 

There was no stopping it. His only choice was to speed up his pace or get stuck delivering right there. Dying right there. If Zhao found him, he would have time to save the child, to take it and make any decision he wanted. He couldn’t let that happen. He held on to the wall and stumbled down the dark path as best as he could. He heard is name echo off the surface of the rocks. Zhao was inside and calling him. 

Shen had no idea how much noise he may have made, sabotaging his efforts to stay hidden. He held his stomach so low, he was practically cupping himself to keep his entrails from falling out. That’s what it felt like. Something protruded. He didn’t have to see it to know what it was. No. Not like this. He couldn’t let Zhao find him like this. 

He was no longer walking, but dragging himself as he tried to keep the thing inside him by locking his muscles. Never mind the pain. He had to get to the water. If he could get down there, then it would be too late for Zhao to do anything. He could strangle this thing right where he stood, but it had to be born. It had to be shown to live. 

He couldn’t make himself think any further beyond that. He knew he had a plan. He’d left the knives and blankets here, for that purpose. His mind clouded with pain and he lost his way, only knowing to move away from the sound of his name being called. He pushed himself to keep moving, ignoring his drag, ignoring his tears. It was just exhaustion and that always looked far worse than it felt. Some people called it shock, but he wasn’t human and he wasn’t going to settle for human inadequacies. When he fell, he fell face-forward, onto grass. 

Open sky blew night wind against his face, cooling his fever. He had stumbled onto the back of the ridge, missing the path he should’ve been on. Below the bedrock shelf he lay on, a river sounded in the valley below. His name soared into the night, screamed from somewhere below. Zhao’s voice was filled with panic and wild anger. 

Shen pushed layers of his clothes into the place where the thing squished. It felt stuck there. He didn’t want to feel it, but he had to. He couldn’t walk like this. He had to struggle out of his trouser bottoms, to find any comfort. But then the thing slipped out even more. He just wanted to rip the damn thing out. Suddenly, his body seized and he couldn’t stop his gut from bearing down. He felt his body stretch unbearably, impossibly, like turning a rubber ball inside out. That weird opening stretched as far as it could go. It split, spewing blood across the rock. He screamed, hating himself for it. He heard it splatter, rather than saw it. The thing, the baby, oozed out of him like a puddle of balled up flesh. 

He hardly knew what he was looking at in the dark. It could’ve been something monstrous. It could’ve been every deformity he imagined coming out of him over the last few months. He waited to see if it was breathing. He waited to hear it make a sound. He knew that Zhao was coming. Zhao had heard him. The next few minutes would determine everything. 

Shaking, he stared at an unrecognizable mass between his legs. He forced himself to touch it. That was the head. That was hair. That’s the umbilical chord. He didn’t have anything to cut it with, and Zhao’s frantic shouts were getting closer. Without thinking, he used his teeth to sever the cord. He used his bloody bottoms to wipe the infant down and try to make it breathe. As he did, a small voice asked him if he could give this one life and then snatch it away so easily? Could he use this life, to barter for another life? Was it right to ask this one to fight for life, when he was only going to take it away? 

By the time Zhao, panting, got to them, Shen was trying to stand. He held the thing wrapped in his clothing, just as Zhao approached. 

“Shen… ”

“Don’t come any closer.” He swallowed. Dehydration had him trembling. In the dark, their eyes were well adjusted and they saw each other clearly. 

Zhao stepped onto the rock. “My god. You, you did it. Is it okay? Are you okay?”

“Stay back. I told you what has to be done. I did my part.”

Below, the sound of rapids foaming around boulders, lifted up the canyon. They didn’t have to see the water to know that it flowed many hundreds of feet below, and that its current would be deadly. 

Zhao shook his head. “You’re in shock. We talked about this. You promised. You’re in shock, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Shen looked a the bundle in his arms. “We can’t have this, Zhao. It’s an illusion. It’s what Jiu wants us to think. Take him home. Let him grow. Watch him turn against us.”

“No, you’re imposing your distrust of Jiu onto an innocent child. What if he’s perfectly normal?”

“There’s no such thing.”

“He’s ours!”

Shen hardened himself against these words. Nothing was working out. His hidden knives would’ve been more merciful, but the glaive was a part of him, and he used it faster than Zhao’s human eyes could keep up with. In the end, he could not touch his child with it. The blade was tainted, having executed thousands. He could not use it on one so innocent. But he could use it on himself. He willed it to spin around his body, first holding out one arm, then the other. It sliced deep gouges. He cut within a fraction of severing his tendons, just enough so that he could clutch his child all the way down.”

Zhao’s legs buckled from the sight. “No!”

Shen saw the horror on his face, bulging his eyes, and spoke through it. 

“We’re not supposed to have him. Don’t fall for this. This is an ancient trick. Torture the humans with what they love the most. Someone like Jiu will be replenished with life-force for a thousand years, with our pain generating so much energy for him. He will enjoy your suffering, like wine, well into your next incarnation. If this one lives, he will live to do Jiu’s bidding. Your heart will break like glass on that cruelty. You will not recover and it will leave a mark on your soul, tainting every future, every potential, every path you turn towards. Let me end it now. You have your life. I did this for you. If you have never heard me profess my love for you, you have witnessed it these past months. You’re alive to continue, and that’s all that matters to me. Let us go.” 

Zhao inched forward, terrified of startling him. “Us?”

Shen nodded. “The night you put him inside of me, you begged for my forgiveness before it was even done. It was a power that you could not resist. Now I ask you for that same forgiveness. Since I can’t permit this child to live, I won’t send it away with nothing. I can’t unleash this creation onto the world. So I’ll join him. I’ll join my child. Save yourself, Zhao. You have your life. Leave us to our fate. It’s not the end, you know that.” 

Zhao reached out, daring to take a step forward as Shen backed to the edge of the rock. “Don’t do it. Don’t leave me with this.”

“It’s my duty to destroy him, to protect others. You were right. He matters. I didn’t want him to, but he does. If he has to die, then I have no more right to life than he does. I don’t want what’s left of my existence, if I have to do this to him. I don’t want to leave him alone in the dark. I’m going with him. Don’t look. Don’t speak of what you’ve seen. Don’t remember me this way. I spent the last nine months saving your life. Take it and run. You can have anyone you want, anyone to take my place. You can have a dozen children. Get out of here and leave me this one. I’ll take responsibility for him. We’ll remember you on the other side. We’ll watch you from there, Zhao. Good-bye.”

  
The Black Robed Envoy is an eternal creature. Neither of them were sure of what would happen if Shen slipped from the rock, or jumped deliberately. He looked so human in his weakened state. Blood caked his face and hair. It congealed under his nails and dripped from his fingertips. He looked so lost to grief already, that Zhao was certain he would die. The Envoy might continue, in a dimension out of his reach, but Shen would certainly be lost to him for another thousand years. And their child would not survive that fall. So when Shen let go, falling back, Zhao ran to catch him. In that moment, two very different memories emerged from that departure, that split. 

Shen fell from that place, losing his hold on his child and on consciousness. It didn’t matter. After months of wrestling with the idea of performing his duty to protect humans from soulless offspring, that didn’t belong among them, that couldn’t walk among them without hurting them, he knew he’d made the right decision. To go with his child, and leave Zhao to his life, felt better than all other options. It was not a peaceful decision, but no one ever promised him peace, so he didn’t look for any. 

He lay now, watching white veils waft from the rafters. They hung over his bed and stirred in a gentle breeze, like blessings. This was his fourth week here, as far as he could tell. Zhao must’ve saved him. Or maybe he wasn’t allowed to die, and that was his punishment. He would have to live with his actions and look down at empty arms, wondering who and what he destroyed. 

He’d had plenty of time to think about his actions. He could sit up now, and he knew that Zhao was around. His visits had grown more frequent, though Shen had nothing to say to him. That ungrateful bastard. 

_I gave you your life back, and you make me return to this world, to live with my greatest failure. I thought you understood my love, Zhao. Now I’m going to mourn him until I am nothing._

The view was beautiful, all sky and lanterns, and brilliant textures amid temple architecture. It’s a nice place to die, Shen decided. No matter how much they try to make him live, his decision was the same.

His lone figure sat in a bed glowing with white, pristine sheets, turned amber by the sun shafting onto surfaces around him. Someone had let his hair down, brushed it. He wished they would stop doing that. Yesterday he had short hair. That meant Zhao was around. Shen’s body still did what Zhao wanted it to do. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

Lying there, with so much time to reflect, he seemed to catch up on all his thoughts. Something held every experience that mattered to him, up to the front of his mind for review. The ones he ignored, got pushed to the back of the line, but eventually he had to face them. 

That night. The night it happened. He hadn’t wanted to encourage Zhao, but he hadn’t wanted to deny him, either. He simply could not give in to indulging in something that didn’t make sense to do, at a time like that. Those touches did feel good. To be that wanted, did feel good. To be handled, wrapped in strength and desired so whole-heartedly, was a thing to be savored. He couldn’t explain the way his blood leapt when Zhao touched him, so he said nothing. He only knew that when he pushed him away, he came back all the more determined, and that was exciting. 

He wanted to see how far Zhao would go. He knew what he was hiding between his legs, and he knew that Zhao sensed it. At first it had sickened him and he didn’t want to believe that it was there or how it could’ve happened. As the Envoy, he’d seen stranger things and stranger creatures. He simpley didn’t want to be one of them. Then Zhao was mawing him and fighting to get to it, like he needed it. Then his hands were down there, his mouth, and Shen had never allowed his body to feel so much pleasure before. He hadn’t known what was possible. A life of duty had not prepared him for it. He was caught in Zhao’s net and drug from one side of reckless bliss to the other. It was violent, crazed, and all consuming. Nothing felt better than all the attention he suffered beneath Zhao’s hands. He didn’t want it to end. Not even when there was pain. 

He relished the limits his body was pushed to. That’s how much Zhao wanted him. When he felt the burn of tissue tearing, he measured that pain against the force thrusting into him, like it needed him to live. He loved the way Zhao’s strokes pushed him forward and flattened him out. He loved surrendering to being trapped beneath him. Having risen to dominate weaker life forms, it never occurred to him that he could play the other side of the role just as well. Beneath Zhao’s kisses, he found he was good at needing to be exploited, and it was good to him. 

Pain was nothing to him, not that little bit anyway, and he ran from Zhao’s length to make him chase and drive it all the more deeply. Every squirm, every act of coyness, held the hope that Zhao would not settle for it. Why he needed to play this game, he didn’t know. Not at the time. Now he understood that Zhao’s demand was like a barometer. He didn’t feel the fever of desire until Zhao’s grip made him feel it. There was no other challenge, no other interest, in sexual matters, until the game got dangerous. Until Zhao used enough force to make it register, to make it meaningful, to make him unable to ignore it. He loved being ravished like that, and before he found out about the child, he was looking forward to one day giving Zhao as good as he gave.

Was he supposed to apologize for that? 

Sex was unknown to him before. It was something that humans and other creatures did, but he was the most evolved of his Ghost Tribe, that it was not a common thing among them. They did not procreate. They were all created at the same time and evolved in different ways. Even his twin brother, did not possess the level of consciousness that would allow intimate involvement with another life form. Shen was the first of his kind in that respect, and he was still trying to figure out how it had come to that, when a shadow leaned over him. 

He was drifting off. Without enough stimulation to keep him awake, amid all that peace, he went towards the action of his dreams. There, the child spilling from his body was reminiscent of Zhao splitting him to get inside. It hurt, and he loved it. Some human contaminant in his mind, told him to feel guilty. He told it to fuck off. He’d already suffered enough over human guilt and human feelings. Killing his child was bad enough. He would not give one more sacrifice to that god of misery. 

Maybe he was so very different from humans that he put them at risk also, but he remembered how the child slipped out once its head cleared. He couldn’t admit it then, but that was a satisfying plunk. Disgusting, hot, syrupy. Nothing screamed that he had done it, the way that moment of disbelief pooled beneath him. Nothing proved that he loved Zhao more, than all that blood covering his hands and thighs. He’d wanted to give more. That’s when he knew how to resolve the whole matter. That’s when he knew what to do, and made a new decision. Oh, if only he could’ve walked away from all of that with that prize and with his child. He would’ve loved that. But that wasn’t possible. 

The shadow, between his body and the daylight, called him back from the edge of sleep. 

“Shen, you look so much better. The healers say that I can take you home soon.”

He didn’t have to open his eyes to say what he had to say to Zhao. “You only delay the inevitable. A ghost has no place in a human house.”

Zhao knelt by the bed. “If you think I’m going to let you go that easily, you haven’t been paying attention, Professor.”

Shen opened his eyes to that familiar, silly grin. It was filled with too many quirks to ever be taken seriously, misleading everyone who thought they knew Zhao.

“You shouldn’t have saved me. What makes you think I’ve changed my mind?”

“Um, you chose him over everything else. You must’ve loved him.”

“It wasn’t his fault, that a monster created him. He shouldn’t be alone in darkness. You already understand that you are valued. He does not. I want to endure it with him, since I sent him there.”

Zhao’s voice softened. “And what if you could never find him again? What if that was your one and only chance? And you turned it down?”

“Did you save me, just to torment me?”

“No, I’m making a point. You loved him. You still do. Why not admit that, and do something differently with it?”

“What can I do? He’s dead.” 

“What would you do? If you could do it differently? Without all that anxiety about Jiu and his corruption.”

“I’m going after Jiu. I will destroy his soul.”

“You have to want to exist in order to do that.”

Shen’s head turned on his pillow. “If you hate me, strike me. Beat me. Kill me. Why pull me back from death, to taunt me? Do you need to hear me say the words? I’m sorry! I’m sorry I harmed our child. I am prepared to mourn him until I am holding him again, in a place where he cannot be killed, because he has already died. He will be young forever, and I will guard his childhood forever. What more can I give you, Zhao? I told you what I would do.”

“Listen to me. Jiu failed, Shen. Sure, he caused some dramatic effects on our bodies. But his aim was to get me to do something that you could not forgive. To use that to rip us apart. All he succeeded in doing, was causing you to feel love for me and for our child. He failed. That means he didn’t get to our son. He used tricks, not power. He didn’t corrupt us on any genetic level, which means Xinci Wei is just fine.”

Shen’s jaw hardened. “Xinci Wei?”

“I had to name him. He’s almost a month old. We tried to wait on you. If you really don’t like it, we can change it, but he already knows his name.”

Shen could only stare. “What have you done?”

Zhao sighed and gestured to the monk standing just outside the room. A slender woman with a bald head, wearing neutral, genderless orange robes, carried a bundled blanket in her arms. She walked up to Zhao and gently handed it over. She rubbed delicately at the opening, before smiling at Zhao, then Shen, and leaving as lightly as she had arrived. 

Shen pushed himself up. “No…”

“Now, don’t start. We’ve waited a whole month for this. They say you’re strong enough to see him.”

“Zhao, no! How could you! Don’t you dare bring him anywhere near me. How is this possible? I jumped. He fell from my arms.”

“No, you meant to jump. You fainted. I caught you both.” 

Shen’s hands began pulling at his covers. “Get him away from me. Take him from my sight.”

“Sshhh…. You’ll upset him. The monks say that he’s still attached to you. You’re all he’s known for nine months. He’s still in tune with you, with your body. If you’re upset, he gets upset. He was a few weeks early, but he’s eating now. Like you, he’s doing better.”

Instead of replying, Shen appeared to be in vehement denial. Dry heaves replaced his breathing. Swollen blood vessels immediately expanded around his eyes and mouth. 

“It’s okay to let it out, Shen. I cried when I saw him. He looks like you.”

Words shook as Shen tried to get them out. “How dare you! How dare you bring him this close to me, knowing what I did. What’s wrong with you?”

He couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. “You have a chance to run. You didn’t have to let me know. Why do you put me in that same position again?”

“Because I know you didn’t mean it. You have never not done what you said you’re going to do. When you couldn’t hurt him, and chose to hurt yourself instead, I knew that you loved him. You would rather die than harm him. Shen, I’ve seen you run through with a sword. I’ve seen you pull a knife out of your heart. When you fainted, so close to jumping, it was because you didn’t want to jump. You didn’t give yourself any other out. It was my one chance to step in and sway the balance. By fainting – you’re not someone who faints – you gave me the chance to reel you back in. To save you both. And I did.”

Shen wasn’t convinced. He shook his head violently. “You can’t trust me around him. I don’t trust me around him. You shouldn’t have done this.”

“What happened to ‘being with my child’ and not letting him go to that darkness alone? I’m presenting you with a second chance to live with him, enjoy him. Accept him. At least look at him.”

Shen turned away, even though Zhao made no move to thrust the baby in his face. “You can’t make me look at him.”

“I don’t want to. I want you to want to look at him. You’re missing the greatest thing in the world. You’re missing exactly why we put ourselves through this. At some point, you’re going to raise your glaive to the sky and curse whatever power put you in this position. Don’t you want to see what could possibly be worth all of this?”

“No.”

“And do you know how I know you won’t hurt him? How I really know? If you’re that batshit crazy, I’d take him away and raise him on my own. I’d leave everything behind for him. Because he’d be the only part of you I have left. But you’re only scared of yourself. Of coming down to a human level and having to defend your own human baby against all those forces out there, too numerous to count. You know as well as I do, once you have a kid, no matter how big and bad your reputation is, you have a weakness. A vulnerability, that anyone can get to you with, for the rest of your life. 

“The cost of love is huge. Now that he’s here, everything’s on the line. Our enemies are going to find out that we have something we love more than anything, and we’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. To look at him, is to commit to putting his needs before ours, before your Envoy duties, before anything, and you don’t know how to deal with that. Well that’s what Daddy’s here for. I’m going to help you. I’m going to teach you how to take care of our son. As I learn. We’ve got my parents. We’ve got a live-in nanny. That’s more than a lot of people have, just starting off. Will you let me? Will you try to do this with me?”

“I’m not human. I can’t commit to such a thing. I have to remain impartial.”

“Too late. There was nothing impartial about the way you tried to throw yourself over that rock. You chose him. All I’m asking, is that you choose him in this world, where he can grow, instead of that one.”

The weight of Zhao’s reasoning, appeared to fall heavily around Shen’s shoulders. “What if I hurt him?”

“Do you still want to hurt him?” Zhao looked skeptical.

“No, not on purpose. But I don’t think like you. If he’s going to live, he needs you more than he needs me. I can’t raise him. I can’t be around him. Not after what I’ve done.”

“Here, hold him.”

Shen protested even as Zhao lowered the baby into his arms. For a moment, panic filled his eyes and left his mouth gaping. An angry line dented his brow, but creased to reveal even more complex emotions as he stared into the face of his son. Clean new skin, thin as tissue, held him in awe. The baby’s eyes were closed beneath an abundant hairline. His arms folded against his body and his petulant lips appeared to search as his fingers moved erratically to find it. Even in miniature form, the shapes of his hands reminded Shen of Zhao’s, down to the fingernails. 

He’d watched humans rise from their generations over and over again, following the physical blueprints of their fathers and mothers. To think that a part of himself had now been introduced to the mix, and would influence this one, and all that came from him, kept him silent. He did this. This grew in him. He’d grown a human, and there didn’t appear to be any mistakes. This extremely small thing was lovely to behold. It had a very light energy. Very buoyant, compared to what Shen was accustomed to feeling from adult humans.

Shen felt himself shaking. This child didn’t feel threatening. It felt squirmy and so insubstancial that he thought it might flip out of his arms. 

Zhao indicated that he needed to hold him closer. “Tighter. You’re making him think he’s going to fall. He’s used to being enveloped on all sides. You hugged him for almost the full term.”

He smiled at his own charm.

Shen brought him against his chest. It still felt off. The blanket felt too light for its impacting contents. The baby reddened, and they watched it flush as a high pitched squeal tickled their eardrums. Once its fingers reached its mouth, all of its little trembles and squeals stopped as it pacified itself. Shen would not have recognized him, from the thing he pulled from his body. 

“He’s real. He’s a real human baby.”

“Of course he is.”

“I thought… ”

“You thought he was going to have claws.”

Instead of dignifying Zhao with a reply, Shen continued to stare and find no words for what he felt. After a moment, he tried.

“He feels like I could lose him in this blanket.”

“He weighed a mere three pounds when he was born. He’s up to six. The healers say that, in his prematurity, he spared you.”

“Take him.”

“Nope.”

“Please. I’m not ready for this. It makes me uneasy. You mustn't think that just because he’s here, I can be a real parent to him. I tried to spare you all my failings. Now you will see them. Take him.”

“Compromise. Sit with him for ten more minutes, then I’ll take him.”

Shen looked up at him. “Why do you trust me so? I have no right to this. This is a human’s inheritance.”

“Stop saying that. Your body gave him life. Mine didn’t.”

“Nothing you say can make me trust myself around him.” 

“Hey, you’re not going to fail him, because I won’t let you. That’s my job. And I’m not forcing The Great Envoy to be a mother. I know you can’t learn that overnight. I know this is a lot to ask of someone who’s never wanted it. All I’m asking, is that you hold him when you can. Talk to him when you can. Be with us when you can. I’ll make sure his every need is met. He’ll have grandparents who love him. You’ll come around at your own pace and we’ll figure this out together. Right now, that’s enough.”

Tension eased from Shen’s neck and shoulders a bit. “Promise me that you won’t let me hurt him. I hurt things.”

“I said I won’t. Promise me that you’ll get well and come home with us. We’ll introduce him to my parents together.” 

“Zhao, it won’t be a fairy tale. I’m no mother.”

“It doesn’t have to be. As long as you’re with us, I’ll take any story, any role beside you, any ending. You’ll make a hell of a dad, just like me. We may not get it perfect, but who does? We’re damn sure going to try.”

Shen risked running his finger over the baby’s soft spot. “He has so much hair.”

“Like his father.” 

This coaxed a smile on the edges of Shen’s lips. “His energy doesn’t feel dark at all. He is perfectly formed.”

“I agree. We know how to make a baby.”

“It is an omen, that he should survive all of that. I have decided, that I will let him live. His life force is greater than my will.”

“I’m glad you’ve arrived at that.”

“How can you ever really forgive me? I have incurred a debt that I can never repay.”

“You didn’t do it by yourself. We screwed up together, we’ll fix it together. And besides, if you stick around, I’m pretty sure there’s lots of ways you can repay me.” He smirked, but Shen was serious. 

“When he’s old enough to know, what will I say to him?”

“Tell him the truth. You made a mistake, and spent the rest of your life loving him, to make up for it. We’ve got years to polish our story.”

The baby squirmed, barely opening his eyes. Deep male voices resonated softly above him. 

Shen spoke to his son. “Don’t worry, Xinci Wei, now that I know who you are, I will give you a thousand welcomes. A thousand blessings, and stand before a thousand enemies to protect you. I may not know how to be human, but I claim you as mine. I will repay my debt.”

It was music to Zhao’s ears. This little bundle of responsibility had now become something akin to Shen’s school project, and their was no room for failure. Poor kid, he was going to have such a strict father. But Zhao would be their to sneak him candy and keep him giggling. 

“Ah Shen, stop judging yourself like the Envoy you are. Look at what you’re holding. You’ve paid. The gift in your arms, is payment enough. It covers both of our debts.”

Shen didn’t argue with him. He merely watched his baby sleep for another hour, before releasing him into Zhao’s arms and allowing their talk to turn to leaving. 

  
The End 


End file.
